


Teaside

by sycamore



Series: Teaside [1]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Omega Ruby & Alpha Sapphire | Pokemon Omega Ruby & Alpha Sapphire Versions
Genre: F/M, Literature, Romance, Strangers to Lovers, Support, fan fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2019-11-05 11:43:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 35,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17918150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sycamore/pseuds/sycamore
Summary: Steven Stone x ReaderStory of how you met Steven Stone and how you became something more.Imported from DeviantArt.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Original story links  
> 1 - https://www.deviantart.com/polydeuce/art/teaside-01-steven-stone-x-reader-519640712  
> 2 - https://www.deviantart.com/polydeuce/art/teaside-02-steven-stone-x-reader-519654658  
> 3 - https://www.deviantart.com/polydeuce/art/teaside-03-steven-stone-x-reader-519895125  
> 4 - https://www.deviantart.com/polydeuce/art/teaside-04-steven-stone-x-reader-520983040  
> 5 - https://www.deviantart.com/polydeuce/art/teaside-05-steven-stone-x-reader-522633890  
> 6 - https://www.deviantart.com/polydeuce/art/teaside-06-steven-stone-x-reader-523353001  
> 7 - https://www.deviantart.com/polydeuce/art/teaside-07-steven-stone-x-reader-523819163  
> 8 - https://www.deviantart.com/polydeuce/art/teaside-08-steven-stone-x-reader-525132822  
> 9 - https://www.deviantart.com/polydeuce/art/teaside-09-steven-stone-x-reader-528101494  
> 10A - https://www.deviantart.com/polydeuce/art/teaside-10A-steven-stone-x-reader-533467740  
> 10B - https://www.deviantart.com/polydeuce/art/teaside-10B-steven-stone-x-reader-533467055

You live on Route 114, and you work on Route 114. It would have been an endless cycle of getting up, pouring cold tea and serving stale cakes, if not added a dash of those hours in the afternoon, where you leave for a single class. 

That was your life. It was destined to be it, until you finish your education and move out. But that’s too far away. Until then, you’re stuck living in the cramped loft above your mother’s café, serving shifts for her as the rent for the spare sleeping space. 

Usually, the café would serve three customers at once, at most five. There were tables at least four apart always empty. It, the café, was very spacious. The windows covered the walls much like wallpaper or paint. It gave a flowery vive, like being in a greenhouse and in a pristine kitchen at sunrise. Maybe it would have been your favourite place in the world, had not your mother’s glare pierce through you every time you wanted a break from cleaning dishes, sweeping floors, or even just wanted to live. 

Your mother did not trust anyone. Only you, your mom, and a young, shy boy always intimidated by her had rights to be called staff. Not the boy anymore, maybe—he never came back after the night he spent too much time cleaning off a wound from cutting a cake. The look on his eyes when your mom accused him of slacking set your plan in motion. Get out as soon as possible. 

But that’s too far off. You’re just two years away from graduating. You’ve done three years and it’s a couple of months away from completing the forth. It’s hard to bear to think about spending six years with a slime of a mother, but that is the reality.

And here you are, late in the night—taking orders and telling your mom them. The café is busy tonight; Professor Cozmo, who lives in the town close to Route 114, held a convention in the afternoon. Result: the café is shock full with creepy old dudes.

Every table is occupied except your favourite, the one in the corner with the breathtaking view of Meteor Falls and the lake adjacent to it. And for once, no one’s calling you to take an order, your mother’s not needing any help, and you allow yourself a rest, a few minutes on the corner seat.

At some point you dozed off despite the chatter around you. It wasn’t a long nap, maybe ten minutes at most, judging from the food of the customers. 

“Ahem?”

Right. Right, there was someone who poked your cheek to wake you. You look up, and it’s not a creepy old guy like you feared. It was a young man, in his twenties perhaps, pale and slender. Not the kind of audience you were expecting tonight. 

“Um—” you’re caught off guard by a yawn. You rub your eyes to hide embarrassment and the last lingers of sleep. “May I help you?”

“Is this seat occupied?” He’s wearing an expression that could be disappointment or something worse, but his light eyes and fittingly matching hair softens his features. He just looks worried about you.

You hurriedly get up and brush the crinkles from your uniform. “No, no, it isn’t, I’m so sorry,” you spill out, words morphing with each other in mortification. Surely this guy is put off by your behaviour. He won’t ever come back, and your mother would blame it on your service. 

But instead of disgust, he smiles at you. It’s genuine. You aren’t sure how you could tell, but you could still feel its warmth when he takes his seat and asks for a cup of Earl Grey tea. 

When you return from the counter, tray in hand, your mother is there collecting bills and washing dishes. She’s quiet at least (the only customers left are newcomers, and your mom would do anything to reassure a second visit, even if it’s stopping her from giving her daughter a lecture) and it means it’s almost seven, almost time to close up shop.

You deliver the tea to the man’s table. He cups it with his delicate fingers, sipping a bit before setting it down. “[Name],” his eyes are on your chest, where your name tag is situated. “Thank you for the tea.”

“You’re welcome, sir,” you reply automatically as you’ve been taught to do. Except, this time, there’s a lot more heart to it.

You leave him alone to sweep the floor, and the next time you check his table, he’s gone. 

He leaves a generous tip.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s Monday, exactly twelve in the afternoon. Thirty minutes until your next class.

There’s a guest speaker scheduled for today. Last time a guest had came, class started a full eleven minutes before usual time because of the guest’s impatience; _better early than sorry,_  you think to yourself. Besides, it gives you a reason to spend less time with your mother. 

Your notebook is open and you’re doodling aimlessly whatever comes to mind. You are the only person in the room, sat at the front curve, level with the presentation floor before the building rises up. Lecture halls, they’re called. 

When the door opens, a loud echo fills the room. You whip around, closing your notebook as you do. Maybe it’s the annoying boys that can’t seem to leave your personal life alone, or those girls with great music taste. However, you don’t see any student—you see your professor. 

When his balding head nods at you for greeting, you notice he’s not alone. Behind him isn’t a student either; it’s the boy in the crisp suit, who sat at your favourite spot in the café last week. 

You rack your mind for his name, but he never had given you it. 

“[Name]?” He calls as soon as he lays eyes on you. His expression is baffled, shocked maybe; but you can read a hint of relief. 

“You know her?” Your professor cuts in, smug smile on his face. In his arms are all the papers he had cleared from his desk for the guest speaker. 

“Yes,” he says, not lifting his gaze off you. “We are—friends, perhaps.”

The professor shuffles his papers one last time before starting his ascent on the stairs. “Ms [Surname],” he says, turning back to see you. “Make sure you show Mr Stone around the classroom before he starts on his lecture, will you?”

“I will, sir!” you shout back at him, and you stand up. Finally, you can put a name on the boy with the turquoise hair—although only a single one—“Mr Stone.”

He’s smiling, looking at you. Perhaps he’s just a person very satisfied by life. “That’s my name to everyone soon to be in this classroom,” he replies, “albeit you, [Name] [Surname], can just call me Steven.”

“Ah, Steven Stone,” you say, moving from your desk so you are both out in the open. “We are friends, perhaps?” You mock his voice.

“Of course we are friends,” he doesn’t seem to see the joke. “You know a lot about me, don’t you? What kind of tea I prefer, for example. Even my father doesn’t know about that.”

You are touched by his statement, it actually leaves you speechless. “But—” you try to form a sentence. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“There’s a handful I know—that you study here, that you’re diligent, that you work at a small café on Route 114 near Meteor Falls—but I’ll learn much more when our friendship progresses.” 

Our…friendship? Of course, it’s all clear now. You remember his name on the receipts during the time you’re away from the café. He’s been there everyday, on table 04, but unfortunately at the wrong time. 

He sits at the teacher’s desk as the rest of the class fills in. You find yourself drawing hearts in your notebook. 

Soon, class starts. He introduces himself as Mr Stone. It gives you a thrill that only you know his first name. 

“I am a geologist,” Steven says. “I was called here today to present to you the basic differences in identifying natural minerals from evolution stones for Pokémon.”

He clicks on his projector remote, and a yellow gem comes up on screen. It looks particularly beautiful. For that moment, when the class is enchanted with the clear form of the gem projected, Steven meets your eyes. You smile at him, and he winks back at you.

“Does anyone know what this is?” He asks the class. A girl behind you raises her hand, and Steven calls her. 

“It’s a fire stone, Mr Stone,” she says it in a mocking manner of pun, that the class laughs. 

Steven’s face drops. “It may look like a fire stone, but it isn’t. Does anyone know?”

You raise your hand. “Yes, you, [Name]?” Steven calls. The class goes silent. How does he know you?

“It’s citrine quartz,” you say, and the corners of Steven’s month raise. You sit back down.

“She’s correct,” he exclaims to the class. “There is a reason I am having this lecture today. Many people harm their Pokémon with their ignorance of evolutionary stones. When I get asked for a reason why a certain Pokémon won’t evolve, I don’t want it to be any of you.”

The two hours and thirty minutes of class goes by quickly with Steven’s teaching. You learn a lot more about gemstones than what a book can teach you. 

When he dismisses you, the rest of the class run out the lecture hall. They don’t like him that much, you can tell, because of his reaction when the girl he called first teased him. Then it’s like how you started—he and you, alone in the hall.

After he packs his bag, he comes over to your desk and sits next to you. “How did you know it was citrine quartz?” He asks. 

Memorising the definition of it in the book you read last summer, you recite it to him. “Fire stones and citrine quartz look similar, but citrine lacks the image of flame in its lustre.”

Steven brings a hand to his chin. “Ah. My father wrote that book.”

“Tell him thanks, I’ll get a high mark because of it.”

He laughs, leaning back on seat, crossing his arms. You put all your notes in your messenger bag. When you zip it up, Steven clears his throat.

“[Name]…are you free after this?”

“I have to get back to the café.”

“When does your shift end?”

You sigh. “It doesn’t. I work there from ten, the opening, to the three hours I take off for school at noon on weekdays. Then until seven, when it shuts.”

Steven goes silent for a bit. _He’s going to say he’s sorry for me like everyone else,_  you think. He doesn’t.

“Do you…do you want to come with me to see the Goldeen Festival tonight? We might be a bit late, since it starts at six, but it’s worth it.”

You look at your hands in your lap. Steven…is he asking you out? 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to.”

“I would love to,” you say, looking at him. “But my mother….”

He gets to his feet. “I understand,” he says, starting to walk up the steps. 

You feel guilt and anger to your unfair life, but Steven calls your name when he’s right by the door. 

“I’ll be at the café around six.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's a treat to you guys! the next chapter early 
> 
> [here](http://www.sacredsource.com.au/blog/wp-content/uploads/ngg_featured/Citrine.jpg) is the citrine quartz that steven had projected.
> 
> chapter three is on the way. it's mostly at the goldeen festival at mossdeep city (where a certain someone lives...) i just made that up ><
> 
> thank you for reading this ~


	3. Chapter 3

The next time you see Steven Stone isn’t unexpectedly. When he arrives through the door, you’re already smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.

He sits at your spot, which also has became his spot. You don’t mind sharing it. 

When you give him his cup of Earl Grey tea, he looks at you with lidded eyes and says: “Just an hour left.”

As your mother starts to sweep the floor, you rush through washing dishes. When she comes to return the broom to the closet, you’re done with them. 

“Fast today, aren’t you? Lots of Homework?” asks your mother, inspecting the sink.

“I finished with all my homework yesterday—”

“Then why are you rushing? Silly child.”

You hate her for this. It’s one of the many unlikeable things about her, cutting into sentences, calling you names, and asking about everything.

“Actually…,” you start. You brace yourself with her response. “There’s a festival for Goldeen tonight. I’ve been invited by my classmates to join. May I?” It was the first time you had lied straight out to her face. You hope she can’t tell.

“Which classmates?” Her voice is a tone higher now. It’s as if she is disapproving already.

Your mind goes to the closest person you have as a friend in school. “Brendan, Gym Leader Norman’s son—”

Your mother looks up. “You should go, [Name],” she says, and that’s the response you were hoping for. Gym Leader families are always rich. Your mom would want you to attach yourself to them, mooching money when you can. 

You take off your apron and hang it up, about to leave, when your mother calls. “Be back by midnight or I’ll lock up the doors.”

“I will,” and you grab your purse and push the doors open. 

The café is empty, dim without the light. Steven’s not at his seat, probably because your mother kicked him out. Perhaps he’s outside?

When you go outside and the cool air hits you, Steven appears. He’s wearing a coat that he had brought with him over his usual suit. He holds out his hand to you. 

“Are you ready?” He asks as you take his hand. 

“Sure,” you reply, following him to the wood bridge just a few feet away your house. “But where is this festival held anyway?”

“Mossdeep City.”

Mossdeep, Mossdeep…it takes you a moment to remember that it’s an island away. You gulp nervously.

“Steven, I need to be here before midnight. I don’t think I can go, since a boat ride would take too long.”

He squeezes your hand. You can feel the coolness of the rings he wears dig into your skin. “Don’t worry,” he whispers to you, “I didn’t say we were taking a ship.”

You open your mouth to reply, but before you can Steven brings out a flute. He puts it to his lips and plays a short but sweet melody.

Soon the clear night sky ripples, and a red and white figure emerges. You almost choke on air.

“Th—that’s—Latias—”

Steven smiles and gestures you to climb atop the Pokémon.

“Are you sure?”

He nods and you do. He follows suit, in front of you. 

When Latias takes off, you hold onto his waist tightly. You could feel your face going red by the close contact. Hopefully he doesn’t feel the heat.

“That flute, the Eon Flute, holds the power to summon Latias when played,” he explains. “It’s quite efficient for me, since it helps me travel between Mossdeep, Petalburg, and Route 114 so easily.”

Mossdeep for the festivals, Route 114 for the café. “Ah, so you live in Petalburg then?”

“My father does. I live alone, in Mossdeep.”

“It must be nice, with the space centre.” You peer from the side of Latias, looking at Hoenn zoom pass.

When you fully past Mt. Chimney, Steven clears his throat.

“What about you?”

“I live above the café. I work there because my mother deems it as rent for the space I take up.”

Steven stays silent after that, and you use that to look around Hoenn.

As Mossdeep approaches, you start to see tiny lanterns across the island, festival banners, and the sound of joy. 

Latias stops at the edge of Mossdeep City, where a single house is before the sea starts. When you land, it’s only been fifteen minutes since departure. 

Steven runs his hand over Latias’s neck and bids it farewell. “I hope we didn’t miss anything important.”

He opens the door to the house near where you had landed. “Do you want something to drink before we join the celebration?”

“Just water will be enough,” you reply.

He invites you inside and the first thing that strikes you is how clean it is. The second is his collection of rocks in glass boxes. There’s a lot of them from different regions, there’s even rocks from Kalos.

You snap out of it when he tells you your drink is on the table.

Steven’s not wearing his coat anymore, but he’s still wearing his suit. It’s much hotter here than on Route 114, of course.

You take a sip of water and gaze at him. “I like your collection of rocks, Mr Geologist. Particularly the one from Kalos.”

He sits himself at the opposite side of the table. “Any reason for interest?” 

“I hope to live there when I graduate. I’m studying to be a scholar of Mega Evolution, and since Kalos is where it was discovered….”

“Oh,” he says. Like the first time you had met, you can’t tell if it’s full of disappointment.

You finish the drink and you both go outside. The air feels fresh in Mossdeep. You take a deep breath of it before following Steven down the rock path to the beach.

There’s less people around than when you arrived, but still a healthy few. That makes it even more enjoyable as ever. Paper lanterns are strung on ribbons, casting a yellow glow on the beach and all the festival stalls on it.

As you walk through the path the booths on the beach have carved, a lady with red hair that curls at her shoulders calls your attention.

“Couples have our photo booth free. Would you like to try?”

You step backwards, taken by her statement. “I—we aren’t dating—” you look at Steven for support, but he’s grinning ear to ear, his face tinted in red. 

“Ah, is that so?” The other salesgirl, black hair parted into twin tails with red ribbons, emerges from behind the boxes. “Honestly, I’m surprised—you look so great together!”

The other one goes a shade close to her red hair. “Yo—you can’t just say things like that—”

“Excuse me!” You push through the two of them, Steven’s wrist in hand. As you turn the corner, you could feel the stare of those two girls on your back. “That’s ridiculous, Steven,” you say to him once you’re out of their sight. “We’re like opposites, we don’t match at all.”

He didn’t expect your statement; he stops in his tracks. “Opposites? How so?”

“Like—like how basic I am, and you’re gorgeous….” Your eyes widen as you realise what you just admitted to. “I mean—”

“Opposites attract sometimes, [Name],” Steven straightens his collar. “Similarity attracts also. I think we’re quite like the latter.”

You’re embarrassed, blushing like you’re on the sun, but he still makes you want to giggle. “In a time like this, you’re thinking about chemistry?”

“Well, I think it’s a wonderful thing, much like a certain someone I know.”

Clearing your throat, you turn back to walking. Ignoring him, you push your purse onto a counter to try up Goldeen scooping. 

He pays for a round of his own. “I bet you, I’ll catch more than you.”

“Try then,” you say, and you both dip in. 

Twenty-five minutes, fourteen broken scoopers, and two Goldeen in a cup, later, you collapse. “I can’t do it. It’s too hard.”

Steven, with his two new Goldeen by his side, smirks at you. “I guess I won that bet.”

“Fine. What do you want?”

He hands the paddles back to the stores manager, and receives his fish. “Oh, I don’t know,” he ponders. “Couples have the photo booth free tonight.”

You cross your arms and look away from him. 

“Honestly, [Name], you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

He’s too nice to you. If you were free, allowed to make your own decisions without your mother looming over you, you’d say yes a thousand times and probably hug him too. 

“I…I can’t have any evidence of this night.”

When you face him again, his gaze is on the ground. “I understand.”

You find it touching that he knows how sheltered you are, but still reaches out, wanting to cut through to the diamond within.

“Steven, do you want to see the ocean together?” There’s no use being sad about things you cannot change now. This was the first night this year that you put away purely for fun, for yourself. And you’re with a boy who truly cares about you.

He nods, gives your purse back to you, and leads you through the crowd.

When you reach where Mossdeep meets the sea, you take a deep breath. You sit on the bank, close enough to the water. 

Steven follows suit. “[Name], may I sit next to you?” He asks. 

You nod. He seats himself on your left, the sand compacting under his weight.

The wind is whistling softly, and the stars are visible tonight. A laugh escapes your lips. _If only life was like this._

Steven beams at you. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s beautiful here.” You’re speaking the truth, rolling your fingers in the water. “Thank you for inviting me. I was just thinking…about if I lived here, instead of there.”

He’s silent. You’re grateful for it. You already know what he’s thinking.

He breaks the silence by taking out the Goldeen he had won, plastic crinkling. “It’s a tradition in Mossdeep to free Goldeen after the festival. Would you like to join me?” He hands you the plastic.

You take it and hold it open, and Steven holds your hands. You can feel his rings again, cool on your skin. Dipping the Goldeen in, you smile at their golden form darting away. 

“You’re welcome here, always. Just give me a call if you’re free, [Name].”

“You don’t even have my phone number,” you inform him. “How?”

He brushes a hand through his silver hair. “Oh, right—sorry about that.” He pulls out his phone and hands it to you. “Here.”

As you enter your name after typing in your number, the time becomes quite haunting once you realise it.

“It’s—it’s half past eleven! Steven, I need to get back before twelve!” You stand up, brushing the sand throughly from your outfit. Steven rises with you. 

He pulls the flute from his suit pocket and plays the sweet melody again. Latias appears not over ten seconds later. 

Soon you’re both on the way to Route 114, your arms around Steven’s waist as the wind whips pass and waves your hair. The ride is silent.

It is 11:53 PM when you arrive. You ask Steven to let you off on the bridge he first called Latias on.

“My mother can’t see you,” you explain when you both land. “She thinks I’m with my classmates.”

“It’s okay, I understand, [Name].” He holds his arms out, and you give him a tight hug. He’s pleasantly warm.

You give him a last squeeze. “I’ll see you soon?”

“Of course. Good night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is being submitted early as well. honestly, it's too fluffy for my tastes, but i hope it makes someone happy!
> 
> a goldeen festival is much like a japanese festival, but goldeen is the main attraction. there's no fireworks because that would scare the fish away. (last time i've been to a japanese festival was a few weeks ago. they didn't shoot off the fireworks for that reason alone!)
> 
> there is also a cameo from two certain characters in this. if you played the game or watched the anime, they should be pretty obvious XD
> 
> on my progress writing this: chapters five and six are completed, needing refinements. it's chapter four i need to work on.
> 
> thank you for reading this ~


	4. Chapter 4

It’s a sleepless night, the next Thursday after the festival. In your little corner of your mother’s attic, you stare at the clock. 6:44 AM, it reads, making it a full nine hours of deprived sleep. 

Tomorrow (well, technically today) was the day Rustboro was founded, around forty years ago. It’s the one rare day you have both off the café and off school. 

Before you went to bed, around eight, you texted Steven if he wanted to go to Slateport with you. You had memorised his number by heart because of your mom’s snooping around. Every time you called or chatted, you would delete the conversation log and his contact. Right after you sent him the question, you deleted it.

He still hasn’t replied.

Never had you thought that you’d be worrying over a text message. Perhaps it hasn’t sent yet when you deleted it; perhaps he’s in trouble, kidnapped or so. It’s unlikely, but your mind keeps bringing the worst thoughts out.

It gets the worst, wondering where he is and imagining horrible things happening to him, that you can’t take it anymore. You sit up straight, but without banging your head on the low ceiling first.

You try to emit no noise, but your mother on the other side of the room awakes.

“[Name]? Up so early, are you?” She’s kind of nice when she’s sleepy.

“I—I just need a drink,” you tell her.

She’s already up, wrapped out from her blanket. “It’s Rustboro Day, right?”

“Yes.”

“I suppose I have no use for you today. Get out.” _Kind of._

“Yes.”

When you close the bedroom door, you can hear your mom sighing happily.

You make your way down the to the kitchen. As you open the door to the fridge, the dim light giving the room an eerie glow, you take your hidden phone from your waistband. The inbox is empty, as expected.

After a glass of water, you get dressed and grab your bag. Soon you’re outside the café, the sun not even rising from the horizon fully. Sleep deprived and having no home access to coffee, you make your way to the nearest Pokémon Centre.

When you’re on the bridge to Fallarbor Town, passing right by the spot Steven had played on the Eon Flute, your phone rings. 

Hastily, you click the answer button after a single ring without accidentally throwing your phone into the lake, not even checking the caller ID.

“Hello?” You ask. Static replies for a while.

“I…” It’s Steven’s voice. You feel your heart rate return to normal, knowing he’s safe. You don’t know why you were worrying in the first place.

“What is it?” It’s unusual for him to act like this. “Is something wrong?”

“I don’t think I can go out with you today,” he coughs. “I’m sorry, [Name], but my father won’t let me leave home.”

Your heart drops. “I—I understand,” you stammer out. “Is it anything serious?”

“Nothing too bad. I get dizzy when I stand, though. I’ll be better in a few days, I believe.”

“Oh. I’m glad.”

The line goes silent. Steven coughs again, and when you’re about to bid goodbye and hang up, he speaks.

“I know how much you were looking forward for this day,” there’s a forlorn note in his voice. “I’m sorry for messing up. I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” you give a lighthearted smile, hoping he hears it in your voice. “Don’t apologise about it. There’ll be another day, Steven, and it’s not your fault.”

“Thank you,” you hear the sound of blankets slipping. He’s probably sitting up in his bed. “Are you in Slateport right now?”

“No, I’m outside Fallarbor.”

Another cough. “I’m with my father in Rustboro. If you wish, you can come visit me. Just tell the clerk you’re a friend of mine, and she should let you pass.”

“The…clerk?” Last time you’ve been to Rustboro was a few months ago. You don’t remember any houses with clerks in them. “Your dad has a clerk in his house?”

He chuckles a bit. “No,” he says. “I mean—that might be true. He does spend all his time at the corporation, it could be considered.”

You’re pacing around the bridge. Talking to Steven gives you energy you never thought can be received from a person. “The corporation…” You think for a moment, the knowledge right on the edge. “Is that—Is that Devon Corporation?”

“Yes, Devon. My father’s the president.”

Wait, what? “Woah…I didn’t know that.” Steven is too humble, you almost don’t believe him. You shake the thought from your head, remembering he’s on the line. “Right—so, I go to Devon, say I’m a friend of yours, and I should be able to see you….”

“Correct,” he says. “I’ll tell the clerk that we should be expecting a beautiful girl soon.”

Your face heats up. “Oh, stop it. I still haven’t had my coffee today.” You briefly pull the phone from your ear to check the time. It’s seven, and the Pokécentre’s coffee corner should be opening now. “I’ll see you soon?”

“Soon then. Goodbye, [Name].”

“Bye, Steven,” you hang up.

The next hour goes past like a blur. You arrive at the Pokécentre and have a cup of coffee, energising you, and next you take your Swellow out of the Pokémon Storage System. He’s happy to see you today, happier than the usual when you take him out to travel to school. Perhaps he senses the holiday or the excitement you’re feeling. Either way, he was eager to fly you to Rustboro instead of your school for once. 

You arrive at Rustboro before the floats for its founding day even were set-up. The streets are empty, gladly.

At around eight, you stand outside Devon Corp, intimidated by it’s size. It’s _huge._ How are you going to find Steven in that? Pushing the brewing anxiety away, you walk in. 

The floor is glass, covering a collection of fossils, and you find yourself observing it for a little too long.

The clerk clicks her red fingernails on the desk. “Excuse me—are you here for Steven Stone?”

Your head snaps up. The girl at the desk looks bored. “Ah,” you say, embarrassed. You walk up to her, occupying yourself with nonexistent dust on your shirt, brushing it off. “I—I am. Sorry about that.”

She doesn’t hear your apology. After a few clicks on the computer, she meets your eyes again. “He’s on the third floor. Look for the door with all the stickers on it.”

“Right, thank you.” You make your way up the stairs. The clerk’s piercing glare follows you, making you shiver. She reminds you of your mother. 

Soon, you’re on the third floor. The hallway is carpeted and long, and you’re nervous you’re going to get Steven’s room wrong. You walk with your eyes gazing around every door, looking for a sign of a sticker.

Halfway though the hall, you’re halted by smacking into someone. “S—sorry!” You stammer, looking up. 

It’s an old guy, perhaps in his fifties or so. His hair is spiky, and he shares the shape of Steven’s eyes.

There’s a frown on his face. “How did you get in here?”

“I—I’m here for Steven,” you gulp.

That frown grows into a smile, and soon he’s chuckling. “[Name] [Surname],” he calls you. “It’s nice to finally meet the girl my son’s been keeping on about.”

So your suspicions were right. This is Steven’s dad. He’s the complete opposite of what your mother is.

“He’s been nice to you? Steven?” He asks you after a moment of awkward silence.

Ah. The weird parental questions everyone has to go through. “Yes,” you reply. “He’s really nice. I’m glad I’ve met him.”

“Well, he’s glad he met you too!” Mr Stone starts laughing again. Is it like an old dad thing to laugh after every sentence? You give a fake grin, wanting to leave so badly right now. “He talks about you all the time. I can’t go a day without him saying your name even once—”

Three metres behind him, the door with the stickers on it opens. There’s Steven, wrapped in his blanket. He’s a mess, especially his hair, but he still looks cute.

You have to physically stop yourself from covering your face.

“Dad,” Steven calls, annoyed. “What are you doing?”

Steven’s dad turns to face his son. “Why, I’ve just met the wonderful girl you’ve been telling me about. Can’t I gossip about my son with her for a while?”

Steven sighs. “That’s—I don’t even know what to say.”

Raising his arms up, Steven’s dad slips past you, taking his leave. “Alright, alright. I’m going now. Just give me a ring if you need me.”

“Of course,” Steven rubs his temples, and looks to you when his father leaves the floor. “Sorry you had to deal with that. Do you want to come in?”

After that, you’re in his room. It’s spacious and open, his bed leaning right next to the window. You’re  opposite of him, at the little library corner he has. He’s sitting at his sofa, trying to take some soup in. 

You lean back on the couch, pulling your purse off you and putting it aside. “Wow, do you really talk about me all the time?”

“Sometimes,” he’s back to his normal soft voice now he’s away from his dad. “Sorry, I’ll be more careful.”

It’s like him to sense where the conversation’s going. At least he’s getting better. “It’s okay, I just don’t want to be on television. My mother monitors it like a hawk.”

He takes a few spoonfuls of soup before speaking again. “You know, if you ever need to escape that place, my family’s always open.”

You look down at your clasped fingers, not bothering to reply. Steven finishes up his soup and sits next to you.

“Thank you for coming,” his voice is a whisper. Maybe he’s tired.

“It’s no problem, honestly.”

“Did you have any sleep last night?” He notices how dark your eyes were. You were hoping he wouldn’t see, so he won’t worry.

Proving his point, you rub your eyes. “Maybe.”

He takes your hand and stands. He stumbles a bit, but holds his ground. “You should have some rest,” he says. “I don’t mind if you sleep on my bed.”

To be honest to yourself, you’ve wanted a nap ever since you saw how fluffy and soft his bed was. “But you need your rest too—you’re sick.”

“I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

You sit on his bed, lying on it. It’s king-sized, more than enough for you.

“Steven, sleep on the bed,” you tell him, almost about to fall asleep. “It’s huge.”

“You don’t mind?” There’s a little happiness in his tone.

“Not at all.”

He joins you and you move over, taking most of the blanket with you. “Are you sure you don’t mind?” He asks you again.

“I’ll mind if you keep asking me,” you snap, turning to face him on the mattress. Immediately you feel guilt. “Sorry, Steven—I’m just tired.”

He smiles, and it’s a good look on him when he’s not prepped up and perfect. “It’s okay,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “Good night, [Name].”

You’ve fallen asleep before you can reply, and you have no dreams. No objections there, because you feel like you’re already living one.

-

When you wake up, it’s still daylight, and you’re thankful. You can hear the faint sound of trumpets outside from the parade.

You try to sit up, but there’s a weight on your stomach. Steven’s arm is wrapped around your waist, and he’s still peacefully asleep. His breath is soft, his face less pale than when you saw him earlier. You hope he’s getting better.

You pull his arm off, and the shared blanket from both of you, and he turns from his side as you sit up. He’s still in slumber, his stomach falls and rises softly and slowly.

That’s when you notice he doesn’t have a shirt on.

Your face flushes up and you pull your hands over your eyes immediately. He was shirtless, his arm wrapped around you…you can’t believe it. If your mother found out, she’d kill you. It gives you a slight feeling of thrill, doing things you know she wouldn’t approve.

When you calm down a bit, you slip off the bed. Technically, Steven and you had slept together. You’re still blushing furiously, but you go and take your phone from your purse on the sofa. It’s four hours since noon. Still sort of early. 

You put it on the coffee table that holds Steven’s breakfast between the couches. What should you do now? Go back to bed? It’s a crazy idea, but you find yourself right next to Steven before you even think it out. 

His stomach is flat, and you rest your arm on it slowly. He reacts, turning and wrapping his own arms around you in a sleepy embrace. And then you have a face full of Steven Stone’s chest. 

You’re up tightly against him, but he has a warmth radiating from his body, making you feel soft. He feels like the home you deserve to have. You lie there with him until he wakes up.

When he stirs, you sit up immediately, embarrassed. Steven stretches, blinking the last drops of sleep from his eyes. Then he notices you, gone red by his window, not wanting to meet his gaze.

“Hi?” Steven says. It comes out more like a question. 

“Hi, Steven,” it’s no use to avoid him. “Do you feel better?”

Another stretch, and then he gets up. “I don’t feel that dizzy anymore,” he says, and you’re relieved. “I think I’m fine now.”

“I’m glad,” you go to look out the window. “Also, I think you should put on a shirt.”

“Hmm—oh!” He gives a laugh, and you find yourself smiling at how silly he is. “Sorry about that. I’ll get dressed,” and he leaves you in the room alone. 

When he comes back a few minutes later in a simple dress shirt and his regular trousers, you’re at his little library, flipping through a lofty book about Steel-types.

He seats himself down right next to you. “Do you want to go have dinner with together? Later, I mean. If you’re free.”

You close the book. “You’re well enough to go out?”

“I believe so. But we won’t be going far anyway—just here.”

Even so, you’re still a tad bit worried. “What time?”

“Around an hour, give or take, so we have a few moments together free, and you can get home early if she…requires it.”

He’s really thoughtful of you, bending his plans just for you. “Thank you,” you say softly, tracing the spine of the book, not bothering to meet his eyes.

Steven shifts himself on the sofa. “Hey, [Name], what do you want to do?” He’s obviously trying to lighten up the heavy atmosphere.

“What do you mean?” There was no offence in your answer, but the first thought that came to your mind was to go back to sleep.

“Like, watch a movie, a show, or something,” he says, leaning back and putting an arm behind your seat. “What’s your favourite movie?” He’s trying so hard to be cool, you giggle a bit. “What?”

“Nothing,” you sit straight, mockingly, so his arm wouldn’t touch you. “Also, there’s too many movies I like to count. Why not watch one of yours?”

“I don’t really watch movies…I’m usually too busy to do so.”

You stand up, in shock. “Wait, what?” Taking his wrist, you pull him up. Steven’s height looms over as you take hold of his shoulders. “You’ve never watched a movie?”

“Last time I’ve watched one was…about a year ago.”

“Oh,” you sigh. “Oh, Arceus, Steven. If I had known that you were so helpless….”

His face cracks into a smile when you shake his shoulders slightly. “We should watch some horror,” you say. “Is that okay?”

His arms go limp in your hands. “Horror?”

In concern, you let him go. “Is something wrong?”

“I don’t really sit well with horror,” Steven rubs the back of his neck, nervous. 

You open your mouth, about to speak, but your phone on the table rings with a new message before you do. 

“I’m sorry,” you say to Steven when you excuse yourself to read it.

It’s your mother, wondering where you went. It won’t do her any good if her only source of income got lost.

 _I’m at the Rustboro parade,_ you type. Hesitating a bit, you add, _with the gym leader’s son._

It doesn’t take her two seconds to text back. _Good. Come back at nine tonight._

 _I promise I will,_ you tell her. A year ago, the thought of lying to your mother was unbearable. But now, it comes as naturally as water flowing through a river.

When you put it in your pocket, Steven puts an arm around you.

You shift in his embrace, turning to face him, and return it. He holds you for a long time, but you have no complaints.

The thing that untangles you apart was uncalled for. Steven’s dad bursts in the door, an apron around his body, a pan in hand.

“Dinner is ready! And I cooked it myse…” His eyes widen as he looks upon the situation he had disturbed. You let go of Steven immediately, face very flushed from embarrassment. “Oh—I’ll leave you to it. Come down the dining room when you’re ready!”

When the door shuts and you two are alone again, Steven lets out a hearty laugh; he’s so contagious you have no choice but to join in. 

“Let’s make our way, then,” he says when you’re both calm, and you take his hand as he leads you through the halls of Devon.

The doors to the kitchen are huge, taller than Steven and your combined height. The kitchen itself is spacious, with different appliances and counters lining the walls. It makes your café seem wimpy.

And then you pass through a hallway to the dining room, which is much more like the throne hall of a castle. Maybe that’s an exaggeration, sure,  but it’s even bigger than a Pokécentre.

Steven sits at the edge of the long table in the middle of the room; he beckons you to sit across him, and you do.

You slide your hand across the table, and as expected, he takes it, rubbing his thumb on the back of your palm.

Then Steven’s father comes in, a big smile plastered on his face, plates upon plates of food in his hands.

“Finally,” he sighs, when he’s setting the food down. “A family dinner, together, after years.”

Steven apologises. “You know how busy I am with my work and hobby.”

“I don’t blame you,” his dad says as he sits down at the end of the table, next to the two of you. “I understand your duties.”

The room looms in silence as you pay attention to your meal, until Mr Stone calls your attention.

“So, [Name], are you liking it here?”

“Yes,” you give him a smile. “It feels like royalty.”

There’s a little twitch in your mind that believes Steven had told him about your profession and living state. And there’s another thought, knowing how kind Steven’s dad is despite where you came from.

He picks up the conversation again. “I heard you’re taking classes at the school on Mt Chimney?”

“I’m taking Mega Evolution,” you say, setting your fork down. “And when my course is done, I’ll be moving to Kalos in hope to work with the professor in charge of studying it.”

Steven chimes in. “Dad, I think you’ve met him once—the professor, I mean. Augustine, I think his name is.”

After a scratch of a chin, Mr Stone remembers. “Professor Augustine Sycamore! What a funny chap he is. He’s great to work with, [Name], and surely he’s going to take in someone as talented as you.”

“R—really?” One of your biggest fears was getting rejected and having to spend the rest of your life with your mother. Finally affirming that a future in Kalos was going to be reality, you’re feeling a little giddy.

“Of course.” Steven’s dad wipes a napkin over his mouth. “You can give Sycamore a little talk over the phone the next time you’re here, since it’s about time for him to sleep there.”

You stare open-mouthed at him—you don’t know what to say. You look at Steven, and he has his mouth curved into a smile; yet he’s squinting a bit with his eyes, making him look like he’s wincing. 

It’s understandable now. He’s happy for you, obviously, but doesn’t want you to leave him alone. 

The rest of the meal is small talk, about rocks and gems and what’s Devon doing next. You slip into silence halfway through the conversation, letting father and son have a friendly chat while you savour your meal. 

Steven’s dad is a really good cook. You wouldn’t mind living here for real…if that was a choosable option.

Around seven, you finish up, and follow Steven to the balcony overlooking the endless sea next to Hoenn. The flowing wind tastes like salt, whistling, running through Steven’s hair as he leans on the railings. You think about running your hands in the steel blue, but you shake the thought off.

“I think you should get going,” he says, softly, breaking the silence and cracking your heart. He turns to face you. “Would you like me to accompany you?”

“I’m fine, I have my Swellow with me, in my purse at your room.”

He walks you back. His heels echo in the halls, making Devon seem creepy and eerie, completely the opposite of the warm home you felt a while ago.

When you arrive back, you put your phone back in your bag and swap it with your Pokéball. And you turn around, embracing Steven in a tight hug. He returns it, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

There’s a dread in you—you can’t point it to returning to home, leaving Steven and his wonderful family behind, or your future in Kalos. But Steven’s warmth makes you forget all about everything, like he’s the only thing that matters in the world.

When you let him go, he brings his hands to your face, rubbing your cheeks with his surprisingly soft thumb. There’s heat on your face then, and there’s heat on his, a few inches away from yours.

 _Is he?_ You ask yourself, but before you could find the answer, your phone rings. 

You excuse yourself to answer it in the hall. It’s your mother, as if that was a surprise.

Before you could even say hello she’s already blistering and yelling at you how she expected you back by now, completely forgetting that she set curfew at nine. But there’s no use arguing, because you’ll always be losing no matter if you’re in the right; you go through the whole phone call repeating the words _sorry_ and _yes mother._

When you click it off, you crack the door slightly, sticking your head in to see Steven leaning cross-armed on his sofa, a forlorn look on his face. He lights up when he sees you, getting to his feet.

“It’s okay, Steven, I know the place already,” you give him a sad smile. “I have to go—and you should get some sleep. You’re still recovering, and sickness doesn’t fit someone like you.”

He scratches the back of his neck, which you learned was a nervous habit of his. You bid him goodbye.

“Goodbye, [Name], and have a safe trip.” He gives a little salute with his fingers, making you laugh once before closing the door.

And then you walk through the memorised halls of Devon, back to a home of lies, injustice, and abuse, one where you never really belonged to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gosh, this is long. i hope it's not too boring! this is mostly fluff and all that.
> 
> i was having a hard time writing this chapter—i had to get a friend to give me a sentence for plot. i wrote it in maybe six hours, added all together. 
> 
> steven's such a nerd in this one. that's how i see him, anyway, as a dork who happens to look cool. XD
> 
> a little trivia: when steven’s dad says that it’s technically time for prof sycamore to sleep in kalos, it’s around 10 am there, since it’s 6 pm in hoenn. sycamore seems like one to stay up all night, working on something, becoming like an owl for his work ;w;
> 
> i know i said chapter five would be out the same day this one will be posted, but i was focusing so much on this alone that it'll be pushed back a couple of days. i hope the length of this one makes up for the delay.
> 
> i hope you enjoy reading this as much i had writing this!


	5. Chapter 5

It’s pouring. The rain’s too hard that you don’t even hear individual drops, just a continuous pour. Your Swellow couldn’t fly in this weather without his wings drooping down vertically.

Today it picked the worst time to fall. Your final examination for the conclusion of your fourth year studying Mega Evolution was today. You aren’t going to let a _little_ rain stop you from finishing a year. You paid so much for it, and every class was a step further away from your mother, building credit until you’re packing your bags and leaving her alone.

It’s two weeks after Mossdeep Founding Day. Steven visits the café everyday now, at the right time. School’s back (in exam mode), the café is back in, and life’s back to being as bad as it was, featuring a little rain. 

Well, little is an understatement. Honestly, the rain wouldn’t bother you most of the time, no matter how hard it is. But there’s one thing different now. You left your umbrella in the café.

Now you walk in the worst hurricane you’ve been in, Poké Centres not wanting you inside because the rain soaked in your coat can flood them. You’re shivering to the bone but that doesn't matter. You need to get to school.

 _A quarter-mile more,_ you think to yourself. Your school is built on the side of Mt. Chimney, and you have to walk quite a distance to get to it. Usually you would skip the route and fly with your Swellow to your school directly. That’s certainly not an option now.

You hear your phone beep. You would have missed it if the rain didn’t slow down for a few moments. Pulling it out, droplets of rain warping the screen, you read a new text that makes you want to scream. 

_petrology final is cancelled because of that hurricane. it was just announced now, don’t blame me for telling you late! get some shelter, try not to get sick! — Brendan_

You would have thrown your phone on the dirt if you didn’t slip on mud and landed on ground first. 

Life’s too cruel. You’re going to get a fever, you’re going to have to skip a day in the café, and your mother will blame you for something you can’t control. 

It’s pathetic how hard you try, yet nothing goes the right way. You hug yourself, trying to get little warmth, and start to sob. Pathetic, it is, how you wished the best today, how you tried your best to do what’s asked of you, but everything always falls apart—

A pebble flies to your back, knocking the breath out of you. Your first thought is a landslide as you look behind, but you see a sliver of silver in a broken fixture in the rock. A cave, you think, as you slowly make your way. 

When you no longer feel the weight of the rain pattering on your head, you collapse on your knees on the cave floor, breathing heavily. It’s a given you are going to get very, very sick because of how long you’ve been in the rain, clattering in the cold. 

You take off the two coats you were wearing. They land with a sludge echoing the in the cave and instantly you feel lighter. Just in a tank top now, the slightest bit damp (but it’s better than being a walking sponge) you sigh heavily, pulling your hair back. Who knows how long you’re going to be stuck here.

“[Name], we always seem to meet in peculiar circumstances, don’t we?”

You instantly freeze. To the right, Steven Stone stands, leaning slightly on the cave wall. His suit looks particularly dry; how long has been here?

“Yes,” you mumble out. Just everything seems tiring right now, even speaking. You force yourself to pull yourself up in a sitting position, cross-legged. “Did you throw that rock at me?”

“I did, sorry if it hurt. I didn’t want to see you suffer in the rain.” He comes to sit next to you. “What were you doing out there?” His voice is soft, yet you can still hear him over the falling sky. 

Brushing the last droplets of water from your arms, you answer. “I was going to school for my final examinations—they didn’t announce cancelled classes until a few minutes ago—but what about you? Why are you here?”

“An expedition,” he explains. “A mine of smithsonite has been discovered here, and I had visited to see it for myself. Although I didn’t know the weather would be upsetting today.”

You try to nod, but your body suddenly shivers, the kind of shiver you get when you’re freezing. He looks at you with concern. 

“Are you okay, [Name]?”

Rubbing your arms vigorously, you nod in reply. It’s damn cold. 

“Do you want my jacket?” He offers. “It’ll keep you warm.”

“Sure,” you croak out. He slides it off his shoulders and hands it to you. Twisting your hair a final time, you put on his blazer. “Thank you, Steven.”

“It’s a pleasure,” he says, and then you both surrender to the sound of rain echoing in the cave. 

Your mind slowly creeps back to reality. Even with Steven’s help, you’re still going to get a fever. Your mom is still going to blame you for something you can’t control. Tears spill from the corners of your eyes and you press your hands to them, hiding them. 

Steven notices, though. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” you stammer, failing so hard to convince him. You rub your eyes again, then decide to tell him the truth. “I’m going to get sick from the rain, I’ll have to skip a final, I’ll—I’ll have to spend a whole day with my mother, blaming me for something I couldn’t control….” You trail off. 

“It’s going to be okay, [Name].” He hesitates for a bit, but Steven wraps his arms around you. You don’t flinch at his touch, and he relaxes. “I’ll be there to be with you.”

“Y—you don’t have to, Steven,” your voice is barely over a whisper. “You don’t have to, it’s not worth it.”

He holds you in silence for a moment before replying. “I care about you so much, [Name]. I’ll always support you.”

You don’t say anything, but you just stay there in his embrace, the rain storming outside.

“I’m glad I met you,” he says after a while. “You’re such a blessing, and you’re worth much more than every diamond in the entire universe.”

Tears rush up again, but they’re not of fear of the future. They’re of liking, fondness, and how much he’s made your life better. “Steven….”

“[Name]…” he starts, thumb moving up to brush your lips just in the slightest way. “I think I may have fallen for you.”

It’s silly, how you’re both in a cave shielding a hurricane, you soaked and crying, he holding you up through your worst point in life. No normal person would ever find themselves in this situation, having affection confessed when crying about not having the guts to say the words back.

You bring your face to his chest, tears pouring out, looking like a mess. He doesn’t mind at all, kissing your head as he rubs your back. And then something cool at your side touches your arm.

Leaning back, you rub the last tears from your eyes. “What was that?” You ask him, looking to the side, trying to find what it was.

“What was what?”

“That—” the last fog from your eyes disappears, and you finally see what that thing is. “Is…Is that a Mega Stone?”

“This?” Steven clicks his stickpin out from the blazer you’re wearing, handing it to you. “It is. I only wear it on expeditions—since you never know what will happen—or when battling.”

You turn it over in your palms. Four years of studying and decades of interest, and not once have you seen a trainer with the ability to mega-evolve. Finding one, and it’s Steven of all people? Perhaps you’re really meant to be together.

You’re so engrossed in the way the light captures the stone, how a cascade of colours surround it, that you forget about what you were worrying about just minutes ago.

After how long, Steven takes a pokéball out of his pocket and taps it. A few moments later another rock is in his hand, much bigger than the one you’re examining. He hands it to you.

You clip his stickpin back to the blazer and take the mega-evolution stone. “Metagrossite, correct?” You ask him, and he nods.

“You can keep it as a gift from me,” he says when you’re tracing the lustre in the rock.

You put it back on his lap, bringing you hands to your shoulders. “I can’t. What about your Metagross? It won’t be able to…mega-evolve anymore.” The shake in your voice is back, because you’re worried about upsetting him.

“I have another one,” Steven explains, putting the rock on your coat. “And it doesn’t really matter to me if it’s a different stone. After all…”

“The evolution stone doesn’t matter, it’s the love between trainer and pokémon.” It was the first thing you learned at school. You give a little laugh before sighing and leaning on Steven’s lap. “I wish I was a trainer.”

“You aren’t?”

“I only have my dad’s Swellow for transportation. Battling, collecting gym badges, traveling the region—I’m not allowed to do that. Besides, a professor never chose me to fill up the pokédex. I’m not that special.”

Steven leans over to give a peck on your forehead. “You’re special to me,” he whispers.

You pinch his cheeks.

“It’s true,” he continues, “you’ve made my life so much better. You’re special.”

The force of the words hits you instantly. You lean back up and turn to face him. Steven’s eyes are clear, sincere; he truly means it.

“What?” He asks you, his lips curling into a grin. “Is there something on my face?”

You say nothing. You just hug him so fiercely, he falls back onto the rock. 

“You too,” you tell Steven, “you’ve made my life so much better.” You think of the words you’ve written in your notebooks, recited in your mind. You tell him with a smile: “I don’t think that someone like you can…love someone like me, but would you want to try?”

He squeezes your shoulders. “Of course. But I don’t need to try—I am already.”

You roll off him, reaching to hold his hand beside him. “Is…is it official?”

“What is?”

“That you…” It’s a struggle to get out the words. “We’re…together?”

“If you mean dating, of course we are. Unless you want out…”

“No!” You snap unwillingly, sitting up. “I—I mean, no…sorry.”

Steven smirks as he leans up and gives you another hug, a side hug this time. “There’s nothing to be sorry about, [Name]…” he trails off to look at the weather, which is already lighting up a bit. “Can I kiss you?”

The question comes unexpectedly—you blink at him. “Like on the lips?”

“Like on the lips.” 

You never thought your first kiss would be here, in a dark cave. You thought it would be on top of Mt Chimney, admiring the view; you thought it would be at the Mossdeep Space Centre, watching as a space shuttle launched off. Maybe it would’ve been at your school, or at Kalos—but each vision you had had the same thing in it. It was always with Steven.

“Of course,” you say, and he leans in.

Steven’s lips are soft, just like the rest of his being. His arms are on the sides of your head, holding with the slightest touch. You don’t know what to do—you place your hands on his chest.

And then it’s over.

You feel a bit light-headed, a bit drained. Steven raises his fingers to your hands, and he just holds them.

The rain slows to a stop, but you don’t care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally decided to upload this. it has 2,025 words, half of chapter four.  
> chapter six will be uploaded between now or nine hours tops.
> 
> fluff! more fluff! and drama! XD yet, it's not my favourite chapter. i think chapter seven is my favourite, out of all of them. you will see why! 
> 
> i hope you guys enjoy this! i've gotten a lot more supporters since i started and i love every each one of you!


	6. Chapter 6

You never thought in your life that you would find yourself having to lie about your whereabouts. That thought was wrong.

Apparently, right now you’re supposed to be at Brendan’s house, attending a party to celebrate completing your fourth year. That’s where you are if your mother calls. 

But right now, Steven Stone’s to the left to you, your hand in his. There’s an exclusive restaurant for the most important people opening today. Steven, being the son of the president of Devon, was obviously invited. Both of you right now are at Route 104, close to Meteor Falls and Devon. The sky is cloudless yet the day is cool, perfect for a leisure day.

Steven pulls the Eon Flute from his pocket and plays the soft but familiar melody you heard before. Latias arrives almost immediately, taking you and Steven away to the sky.

This time, however, he lets you sit in front. You don’t object, wanting to know how Hoenn looks from here. 

As Latias takes off, Steven wraps his arms around your waist. You can feel the warmth from his body pressed up to yours, making you red and a bit light-headed. Laughing, you throw your head back—Steven takes this chance to sneak an innocent kiss on your neck, making you lose your breath from the small warning. 

Soon, when Latias touches down in Pacifidlog Town and you’re not alone anymore, your phone rings.

You ignore it—nothing will stop your mood today.

Steven takes your arm and leads you through the town, turning a corner to a big building. It’s made of glass panels which captures the light so colourfully, floating on the sea. “That’s it,” he whispers in your ear.

Both of you walk through the tall, grand entrance. There’s glass hallways and staircases leading up to the top floor. You hold onto to Steven’s arm while ascending them.

There’s not so many people there; it’s an exclusive opening. You see current and retired gym leaders and various people you don’t know. A nervousness courses through your body. _I don’t belong here._

“[Name],” Steven calls, and you snap out of it. “Do you want to hang out here for a while as I get a table for us?”

“Sure,” you say, and Steven lets your hand go and gives you a kiss on the cheek. He walks up yet another flight of glass stairs and you turn to admire the view.

The building is really high up—you could see the edge of Sootopolis from here. You look down and see dozens of people below, lining up for a chance to get in. When it starts feeling a bit nauseous, you back up from the railings, but accidentally hit someone. 

You apologise immediately, but the person that you bumped into just brushes it off with a smirk.

“Not much to apologise about, dear.” The person’s a guy with a weird combo of a swimsuit and a white outfit. You don’t know what to make of it. 

Nodding at him with a nervous smile, you comb your mind to remember a sliver of who this guy is. He seems familiar.

“Aren’t you going to introduce yourself?” He asks. “Any friend of Steven’s is a friend of mine.”

Ah. So this is one of Steven’s odd collection of friends. “[Name],” you say. “Nice to meet you, um…?”

“Wallace,” Wallace gives a bow worthy of a Poké contest’s finale. “Gym Leader of Sootopolis City. And you, dear?”

A profession. He’s asking you for a profession. _What’s not going to be embarrassing to a Gym Leader like him?_ “I…I’m a scholar in Mega Evolution,” at least that was the closest to the truth.

Wallace leans back on the glass rail. “So the pampered Steven does have good taste, then. I’ve never seen him with a date before.” He stretches once and pats you on the shoulder before walking away. “[Name], we will meet again.”

When he’s gone, you give a little shudder. That was sort of creepy, nothing unexpected from gym leaders with all the spotlight on them. You’re glad that Steven wasn’t part of the league, without all the fame drowning him.

 _Maybe Steven’s done upstairs now,_ you think. You head to the flight of glass steps in the middle of the room. 

But before you can reach it, two people push themselves to the front. 

“Hi!” The cheerful but nosy interviewer pushes the microphone to your face. “I’m Gabby, this is Ty,”—she nods to the cameraman right next to her—“and who are you?”

“I—” you start, leaning away from the video, but Ty leans his camera down and talks over you.

“She was with the champion awhile ago, of course you should know who she is!”

Gabby crosses her arms. “Why should _I_ always know everything? What about you? I thought you were the one in charge for gym leaders, the elite four, and the like!”

Before Ty gets the chance for a rebuttal, you break them apart. “I think you got the wrong person,” you tell them. “I don’t know who the champion even is.”

They’re silent first, but they slowly nod. “Sorry about that,” Gabby and Ty say in unison, and then leave you alone, going up to a man with square glasses, dressed in all red.

You let out a breath and push through the thin crowd, trying to get back to Steven.

When you arrive at the table he chose, a balcony one with no one surrounding you, he notices immediately something’s wrong. “What happened out there?”

“Interviewers,” you laugh nervously. “They thought I was with the champion. They got the wrong person.”

Steven averts his eyes, putting a hand to the back of his neck.

You realise instantly. So that’s why he got the ticket here in the first place. “You—You’re—”

“I am,” he raises his hands up in defeat. “Except that almost no one is a trainer these days, so it’s not such a big deal. I held the title for years, since I was seventeen. I thought you knew.”

The situation’s funny—you give a little giggle. “I didn’t know it was possible to find out that your boyfriend was the champion the entire time. Sounds like a script to a cheesy movie.”

Modesty is truly an integrated part of Steven’s personalities. He’s very down to earth, looking at realistic goals, not letting his titles get to his head—it’s one of the things that you love most about him. 

You watch how delicately he takes a sip of water from his glass. “Isn’t life cheesy at times?” He asks you.

You give him a hard look for that answer, and take your own glass. “Speaking of cheesy, I met your friend Wallace down there. He’s sort of odd.”

“He was always the flamboyant type,” Steven shrugs. “Either way, he’s one of my closest friends.”

“I can see why,” you say, before looking down and twiddling with your fingers. You don’t know what to say anymore, feeling yourself become stale. Why is he interested in you?

Steven doesn’t notice, his eyes on the view. “Where do you want to go after this? Anywhere you want, [Name].”

“Oh, uh,” you think for a while, but eventually don’t come up with anything. Resting your hands on the table with no ideas, you reply. “Actually, anywhere’s perfect if it’s…if it’s with you, Steven.”

It was embarrassing, but it was the truth. Steven’s face tints with pink. He puts his hand over yours across the table, his touch soft. He’s shifting his eyes, avoiding your gaze like a schoolboy with a massive crush. 

A moment passes before he gulps and speaks up again. “What about Mossdeep—back at my house?”

“Sure.”

The rest of the hour goes past quickly. Steven and you have dinner on the balcony alone, save for the few moments Wallace came by and almost fell off the railings. 

“So,” Wallace says, holding a firm grip on the rails now. You’re leaning to admire the view, and Steven’s right next to you.

Wallace takes a shaky breath before speaking again, obviously afraid of the height. “How’d you do that, Steven?”

“What? Do what?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he rolls his eyes. “You have no experience at all. Twenty-five years, no experience in love, and then you leave for a few months and come back with such an amazing girlfriend.”

A blush spreads across your face. It’s the first time someone referred to you with such a term before.

Steven hums for a moment, and places his hand over yours. “When you find the person you’re meant to be with, everything goes so smoothly.”

You go even redder at that statement. “Aw, Steven.”

“It’s true, [Name],” he brings his thumb to your cheek. “I think I’m in lo—”

“Okay!” Wallace shakes his head and crosses his arms. “That’s enough PDA for today, don’t you think?”

Giggling, you break apart from Steven, who looks annoyed. “Should we go?” You ask him. 

His features soften again. “Sure.”

He leads you from the balcony back to the glass room, which now looks like a ball room. Steven steps aside to pay the entire bill, eliciting guilt in you. But when he comes back and sees you nervously looking at your hands, he takes your forehead with his lips and tells you it’s alright, that it’s a pleasure, that you have nothing to worry about.

Instead of using the Eon Flute now, Steven hires a boat to Mossdeep. Then it’s just you, him, and the captain over the sparse expanse of water that covers most of the Hoenn region. 

You’re sitting across him, far enough from the edge of the boat to not get droplets sprayed on you. The water makes you think about what happened in that cave weeks ago. That was the first and last time he’s ever kissed you on the lips. 

Steven’s face is a bit flushed. You are studying his posture, the way he sits with a leg across his other and his hands held together, over them. You then realise it—you want to study every centimetre of him. 

You turn away from him when he calls your name. 

“Ever thought of any movies? Not horror, though.” When he sees you trying to suppress a smile, he adds: “Please?”

Steven’s face drains when you give him a sinister smile, but it turns into a soft, sincere one. “Of course I wouldn’t want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable,” you say.

“Thank you,” he relaxes his posture. “Also, [Name], about what I was going to say before Wallace cut me off…” he trails off.

“What was it?”

He brings a hand to the back of his neck. “It’s embarrassing…but the past few months, [Name], I’ve felt truly happy.”

You’re blushing, but you try to hide it with a smirk. “Because of me?”

“Because of you.” He gives a nervous, light chuckle, before averting his gaze away from you. “[Name], I think I might’ve…I think I’ve fallen in lo—”

The horn of the boat blares, signalling the end of the trip. The sky is darkening as you climb out of the boat and help Steven out himself.

The captain gives a salute to you both as you walk through the paved paths of Mossdeep city. 

When you reach Steven’s house, the sky is already fully dark. He fumbles through his pocket for the key, and opens his door after a minute of frustration.

He walks in right away and slips his cravat off, messing up his hair. Sighing, he leans back on his sofa.

“Steven?” You call his name, leaning to sit next to him. “Is something wrong?”

All he gives as answer is a puff of breath.

“Come on, Steven,” you place a palm on his shoulder. “Tell me.”

“It’s…nothing,” he mumbles, putting his face in his hands. “I believe the world’s against me today.”

It takes a second to realise that he’s talking about the interruptions. “I already know what you’re going to say to me,” you bring your hand back to yourself, twiddling with your fingers. “And I can’t assure you it’s worth it.”

Steven says nothing; he pushes himself up and leaves you alone to get a glass of water. You sigh— _he’s probably contemplating the idea of how worthless I am_ —and lean on your side on his couch.

When he comes back, you’re still staring at the ceiling, dreading what he has to say.

He sits right next to your head. You scoot up a bit, leaning into his lap. He’s not wearing his blazer anymore. Steven gives a sad smile, and a sigh right after.

“Why are you so hard on yourself?” He says it in a whisper. “You’re so perfect, [Name].”

You avert your gaze away from him, closing your eyes. “I’m not.”

You feel his lips press on your forehead. “You are. You’re perfect. And I know that you’re worth it.”

Sitting up, you still don’t look at him. “Maybe you should be a poet. That rhymes perfectly.”

He gives a full, hearty laugh, and surprises you with a hug. Crooning his face in your neck, he plants kisses and hums words of affection on your skin.

Turning around to face him, you put your arms under his and kiss him full on the lips. You can feel his smile against your mouth. 

Then his coffee table vibrates from your phone on it.

You excuse yourself and check the screen. It’s from your classmate and perhaps only friend.

_your mom expects you home in an hour sorry — Brendan_

“Steven, I have to go.” You push your phone back in your bag and strap it around your shoulders. “I’m so sorry.”

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “It’s alright—it’s not your fault.”

Steven takes your hand and leads you outside. He pulls out the wooden flute, but instead of playing it, he hands it to you. “You can take this, [Name].”

“The Eon Flute? But I can’t play it.”

“I’ll teach you, then.”

You put the flute to your lips, and Steven guides your fingertips until you master the melody.

The notes fill the air as you play the short tune, and a figure comes gliding down. 

But instead of the red form you have come to love, another one appears.

“Latios,” Steven breathes. His face holds a surprised expression. 

The white and blue pokémon has harsher eyes than Latias, but it leans close to you. You put your hand over its head and it gives a purr-like sound.

Steven gives a chuckle at what’s going on. “Oh, [Name], you’re very special indeed.”

“Why?” You turn, facing to question him. “What does this mean?”

“Latias is the local Eon Pokémon of this region. The legend of them being a pair was almost eradicated, for the other wasn’t sighted in such a long time. But this…” he steps up, running his fingers on Latios’s neck. “This is living proof anything is possible.”

Latios gives a puff and shrugs Steven’s hand off. He’s taken aback for a second, but brushes it off with a smirk. “Obviously it’s much more accustomed to you.”

You pull up your purse and awkwardly look at the ground. “Well, I should get going now. Bye, Steven.”

When you’re upon Latios, Steven takes your hand and plants his lips on it. “Have a safe trip.”

You land in a dark corner of Fallarbor town. Latios gives a bow to you, and flies back to the dark sky.

Taking a quick stop to the Pokécentre, you hand the flute to your Swellow in the PC box. Rather you lost it than have your mother find out. 

Back in the café, you change out of the outfit you wore today, messing up your hair and changing into pyjamas. Dumping it into the closet very quickly and shutting it as silent you can, you start to make your way upstairs.

A creak hisses from the steps. You curse at yourself mentally.

Your mother calls your name, and you have to physically stop yourself from jumping. 

“Yes?” It’s hard to keep the wobble out your voice, but you convince her.

“Are you getting water again?”

“I am,” you say, giving a deep breath. She’s been more civil now, not laying a hand on you like she used to. Perhaps it’s because of the illusion of having friends with money around.

You hear rustling, and a sigh. “Perhaps you’re sick. Don’t go near me.”

“Of course.” Closing the door and heading down to the kitchen, you wonder how long it’ll go on. How long will it be until you can leave her behind?

She’s becoming much more forgetful, thinking you arrived already earlier. There’s a little nagging in the back of your mind that you should feel obliged to help her, but…but you don’t know what to do. You wring your head.

Instead of the fridge for water, you find yourself at table 04, sitting at Steven’s spot (which oddly smells like a hint of him), looking out at the lake. You touch your lips, remembering what happened on that rainy day weeks ago. He’s made you feel so special, coming to the café everyday instead of his duties at the Pokémon league. You sigh, leaning back into the cushion, taking in the slightest of his scent.

You fall asleep there, thinking about the possibility of the future. A future which you do not dread at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! i'm extremely sorry for the delay. my computer broke, with all my files on it. it's getting fixed, but for now we have to deal with mobile uploads. i'm so sorry, everyone! unu don't worry, though! i refuse to stop working!!!
> 
> this is fluff and such. not one of my favourites, but a bit plot pulling. there’s only four more chapters left… :0 seven, eight, nine, and ten (the final chapter) are drafted! they’re definitely my favourites out of the entire series, because i love putting characters in hard situations!
> 
> now that it's spring break, i'll be writing all week! i love making you guys happy XD
> 
> i hope this is enjoyable as the others were! thank you everyone for your support :3


	7. Chapter 7

It’s another day at the café. It’s been four weeks since Steven Stone first kissed you, two weeks since he last kissed you, and three minutes since you last saw him.

He’s at the corner seat again, reading a book his father wrote. It’s noon on a cozy Sunday, the sky filled with clouds, giving Hoenn a soft glow. 

When you give him his tea, he reaches out his hand to your fingers for a second. The touch makes your heart race, it makes you electrified. He raises the edge of his lips as you walk off.

You return to the backroom with a tray full of plates. Walking past your mother to the sink, you dish them all in the water and hope for silence.

“[Name],” your mother calls, against all your wishes. You brace yourself. “Who’s that boy that keeps coming? The one who only orders a single cup of tea each time. Such a waste—he stays here for hours too.”

You freeze up, not expecting that, but you have to answer lest she becomes suspicious. “I don’t know, maybe he just likes the tea.” As soon as you said that, you mentally cringe at yourself; it was the wrong thing to say. 

“If he did he would order more than one,” your mother snaps. “Stop lying to me. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

The blood rises to your cheeks. 

“Is he someone from school? Your secret boyfriend that you won’t tell me anything about?”

“Mom, I’m not dating anyone.”

“Good, because I don’t want you to without my permission. And even with permission—no. Remember?”

Your face scrunches up. Sure, you never had a problem with that before, but with all you and Steven had done already…you wring the water out of the cloth too forcefully. 

Some droplets catch on your mother’s shirt. She notices, against all your wishes.

As if things could get any worse, your mother grabs you by the arm.

“You’re lying to me,” she says. 

Keeping the tears from spilling out your eyes, you reply. “I—I have never lied to you.”

“Lying again,” she sighs. “I didn’t raise you to be a liar.”

You bring the towel to your face, covering you crying as your mother drags on the conversation.

“Lying to me when you were at that parade, at that party…I shouldn’t let you out of the house anymore. Carless girl.”

If you were unchanged, protected from the world like you were months ago, you would take her abuse. But you have seen a free world; a world of possibility, with a stable future, all thanks to him.

You grab her hand away and push her aside, her back clashing into the counter as she cries out in pain. There’s a sliver of hesitation in you before slamming open the doors to the serving area of the café.

Throwing your apron off, you walk past Steven, who follows you outside worriedly.

“What’s—” he starts, but you cut him off.

“I’m never going back there,” you grab your head, not wanting to look at him. “I can’t take it anymore. No more.”

He calls your name, but you storm off to Fallarbor town. You check into the Pokécentre, disappearing as you go upstairs while Steven arrives.

You’re not even in your booked room when your phone rings. Even if your mind yells at you not to take it, you click answer.

“[Name]?” It’s Steven’s voice, not the mother’s you were dreading. “What’s going on?”

“There’s a lot to it, Steven,” you answer, finally turning into your room. “Look at my life! Do you think I can handle keeping secrets about you? You’re special, you’re rich, you’re the champion, and you have your life just starting. You have Latias at your command, a brilliant family, you—y—” you find yourself with tears pouring out your eyes and the truth pouring out your lips. Pressing your palms to your face, you fall into your bed. 

“[Name]—” he tries to say, but you cut him off. 

“I’m fine. Give me a moment, alone, please,” breathing is starting to get hard. After a moment, you add: “I’m in room 114.”

A few minutes later, Steven knocks your door. After you wipe the tears away, you tell him to come in. 

“May I sit next to you?” He asks as soon as he’s through the door.

You nod. You don’t feel like speaking right now. He puts his hand on yours.

After a while of silence, you open your mouth to speak. “Sorry… sorry about what I said earlier. I was too caught up in the moment.”

He doesn’t say anything back. 

You sigh, blinking out the tears from your eyes. “If you want to leave me…I understand,” you whisper. “It was just a joke, right? No one—no one will ever want me. I don’t deserve anyone.”

“You deserve everything good in the world, [Name]—”

“I don’t deserve anyone!” You’re on your feet now, pacing around the room. You stop in front of him, who is bewildered yet keeping his calm. “Especially…I don’t deserve you. You don’t deserve to have someone like me…why do you put up with me? I’m not special, not different at all, and in the end I’ll just have to leave you. Why?”

Steven’s a patient person. He waits until you stop biting your lip, until you stop digging your palms into your eyes, then stands up and gazes at you. “Because, [Name], no matter what the circumstances are, no matter how hard it is to be with you—it’s because I love you.”

You want to scream at him how he’s lying, how it’s all just a game to him, but you can’t. You can feel the candor in his words, pure, sincere; you stare wordlessly at him, your lips ajar.

“I love you, [Name], I love you so much.” Steven takes you in his arms. “You’re special, and you deserve happiness, love, companionship; you never belonged in that café. You belong at a castle, at a place you can be truly happy. I love you. Even if I shouldn’t.”

It feels like you’re crying, but no tears come out. You put your arms around him.  “I—I love you too, Steven.”

Breathing in his scent, you give a final sob as he runs his fingers through your hair.

“You don’t have to go back there,” he whispers to you. “What about living with me from now on?”

“I’ll be a…I’ll just be a burden.”

He gives a deep breath. “I don’t mind, [Name],” he says. “I’d love it if I could see you everyday.”

“But you already do,” counters you, a smile returning to your lips. “I think you’ve spent more than a million on tea now.”

Steven laughs, one of hearty laughs only you get to see, not for anyone else in Hoenn, not in any of his champion interviews. He pulls you tighter, and then falls back on the bed, you still in his arms.

“Whoa!” You exclaim, not expecting that completely. “Steven, let me go!”

He does, giggling. “Sorry.” You roll out of his grasp, pouting, but he turns and puts an arm on your stomach. “Can I cuddle with you?”

You’re still pouting, but you sigh and let him. He pushes himself right up to you, his face close enough for you to feel his breath on your cheek.

“You’re really warm,” he notes. “Unlike me, I’m stone cold.”

That was a horrible joke. You glare at him, but he’s already laughing. “Maybe it’s because of all the metal you wear,” you poke at one of his steel cuffs. “It’s sapping your body warmth.”

“What? You don’t like it?”

“No—I mean, I love it, Steven. I love everything about you.”

He gives you a kiss on the cheek. “Of course. I feel the same with you.”

Then there’s silent knock on the door, and a squeak as it opens. “Um, excuse me, Ms [Surname]…” It’s the green-haired kid who used to work at the café. He’s still as shy as he was, but he goes wide-eyed as he sees Steven on the bed with you. “I—what—”

“Wally!” You finally remember his name, and you get off the bed to see him better. “What’s going on?”

He shakes a bit, and starts to close the door. You lunge and hold it open. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you, sorry,” you say to him, your face softening. “What’s happening?”

Wally backs up against the hall, pressing his clipboard closely to him. “[Name]…I—I didn’t know you were friends with the Champion!”

Said Champion comes up behind you,   putting his hand on your shoulder. “Actually,” Steven states, a smirk on his face, “it’s much more than that.”

“Steven, please.” Looking back at Wally who’s wide-mouthed and speechless, you rub your temples. “Wally, please tell me what’s going on.”

He readjusts himself, pulling his grey coat collar back to place. “Well, it’s…it’s your mom. She’s here to get you.”

You groan. Steven squeezes your shoulders. “I’ll go with you,” he says.

“No—I can handle it myself. I don’t want you to get involved with her.”

He lets you go. “You sure?”

You’re not sure. You give him a glance, and he exactly knows what it means. He closes the door and and then both of you follow Wally down the hall.

Your mother is impatiently waiting at the ground floor of the Pokécentre. When she sees you, she immediately sits up with a scowl on her face. 

“[Name]!” She says, angrily. “What the—what’s gotten into you?”

You stand your ground at the bottom of the staircase. “Nothing’s gotten into me.”

“Are you going mad?” She’s flailing about now, yelling to the entire room and picking things up to throw at you. You just miss a pokémanual to the chest, as Wally squeaks in fear behind you. “I told you—it was a fair deal. All of it was. Now it’s off. There’s no way you’re ever going to pay for all of it now, you poor little child. No future for you. You’re nothing without me.”

There’s the faint sound of Steven hissing, but you put your hand out to hold him back. True, there’s fury in you, too, but amity is the best way to deal with conflict.

“Is that your boyfriend?” Trying to hold on to her dignity, she’s picking out details that don’t matter anyway. “That one? Oh, come on—you could do so much better than that.”

“Um,” it’s Wally intervening now, but he’s still half hidden behind your back. “I—I don’t think anyone could be better—”

“What?” Wally stumbles back as your mother interrupts. “What’s this, then? Are you saying, that this boy with a fetish for steel could possibly be the Champion? Oh—” she’s laughing so hard now, tears coming out of her eyes. “—I can’t believe all the friends you picked up, [Name].”

She places a finger on your chest, threateningly. “You and I both know well that the Champion is gone. That’s why you never see trainers roam around anymore. That’s why, despite all my efforts, you weren’t chosen to be one.”

It’s a flurry of so much information that you find yourself struggling with words. “Wait— _you_ wanted me to be a trainer?”

“Of course,” her hands are crossed now, her finger tapping impatiently. “Of course. But you didn’t. That’s made you useless, a burden to my life; a burden to everyone else’s life. Do you think that he truly cares for you? Do you think—”

You were going to lunge at her, to hit her until she apologises, but Steven holds you back.

“Let me go!” You exclaim, still struggling in his grasp. “Let me—”

“What’s the worth fighting for words that aren’t true? I’m not going to let you hurt yourself.”

He’s probably right, yet you still doubt if those words were truly not pure. You lower your fists down.

Your mother is still staring at you with a daunting smile. “At least you’ll have someone else other than me to stop you from destroying the region.”

She turns in the generic evil mother fashion and leaves you alone.

And when she’s gone, that’s when the tears start falling. Steven pulls you in his embrace and whispers. “You’ll never have to see her again.”

Five hours later, when the sun is lowering to set, you have approximately seven plastic bags in your arms. Steven has nine.

“There’s not a chance we can get your stuff back,” Steven had said. “But there’s a chance I can get you new stuff.”

Then you were at Lilycove City, the city with the huge mall right next to the coast of the ocean. Surprisingly, Steven had good taste in fashion, even in clothing that didn’t necessarily have metal on them. 

His excuse is that Kalos is the fashion capital of the world. “They’re not going to let you in Lumiose if you don’t have branded clothing,” he said, when you declined. “Believe me. That’s why I got this suit made, because Kalos hated zig-zags.”

You laughed so hard that it completely convinced you to go shopping with him.

Right now, you free your arms from bags and collapse on his sofa. “I’m tired,” you say. “What a long day that was.”

Steven puts his baggage on the coffee table in an orderly manner, unlike yours, which is scattered all over the floor. “It’s only six, but you can go to sleep now if you’d like.”

“No!” You sit up, startling him. “I live here now. I need to arrange everything.”

Taking a bag, you rush to the side of the wall where his collection stands. “Move your stones, Steven. This is my closet now.”

“M—my stones?” He’s doing the nervous thing again, rubbing his neck and sweating a bit. “If you insist—”

“I’d never do that to you,” you intervene. He looks up, shakily, but takes a smile. “I know how important they are to you. Of course I wouldn’t take something like that away. But is there anywhere I can stack all of this?”

He stands, and picks up a few bags himself. “You can put them in my bedroom.”

“Wait—what about you?”

Turning, Steven looks at you. “You live here now,” he says. “We’ve got to share.” He clumsily opens the door to his room, and you follow through with the rest of the bags.

He has barely nothing in his drawers. All your new stuff takes the empty space. When everything is folded and there’s no more plastic bags in sight, you leap onto his bed.

Steven walks into you almost asleep. “[Name], I think that’s my spot.”

You lift your head up a bit, to see him clearly. “What?” You mumble. “I thought you said we have to share.”

“I didn’t necessarily mean this,” he sits right next to you. “But, if it’s okay—”

“Of course it’s okay, Steven. Stop talking and cuddle me.”

Before lying down, Steven takes off his blazer and vest. When he lies on the sheet, you’re immediately clung to his side.

“Sorry,” you whisper, feeling guilt for cutting him off a while ago. “I just wanted to hold you.”

He wraps an arm around your shoulder and you feel his lips on your cheek. “It’s okay, I feel the same. Are you going to sleep?”

“Yes, I’m tired.” As on cue, you yawn.

“You’re still wearing your café’s uniform, [Name].”

You don’t make a move. “I’m too tired; I’ll change tomorrow.”

Steven kisses your cheek again. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you say, before resting your hand on one of his cheeks and kiss him on the lips. 

You fall asleep in the coziness of Mossdeep, in Steven’s arms, his breath resting on your neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> phew! just finished this. three more chapters left, guys! this is one of my favourite chapters. i hope you like it as much as i do!
> 
> thank you for the feedback and kind messages—its what keeps me writing!! i love you all!


	8. Chapter 8

When Steven’s dad hears the news, he’s elastic.

It was late in the evening. You were on the sofa, book in hand, the time nearing midnight when the phone rung. Before you put it to your ear, you can hear the excitement in Mr Stone’s voice.

“I have a daughter-in-law now,” he says, speech filled with static through the loudspeaker. “I’m awfully happy.”

“Um…” you feel yourself go red. “We’re not married.”

He gives one of his generic dad chuckles. “Not married yet. Yet.” 

You put your hands over your eyes in embarrassment. “Steven, your dad’s being weird again!”

There’s a shuffle of footsteps, and the door leading to the bedroom slams open. “Dad! Don’t say that to [Name].”

“Can I still consider her my daughter-in-law?”

“Well, um,” you look nervously to Steven, who’s as red as you. “I guess that’s alright.”

While his father cheers in delight, Steven leans close and asks a question. “Are we really going to get married one day?”

“I…maybe? I’m completely fine with it. I mean, only if you want to—not saying I don’t want to but…” It’s hard to get the words out, and you look down at your clasped hands. “Um…”

He takes one of your hands and presses his lips on it. “Don’t worry so much about it. It’s a discussion for another day.”

Your face lights up as his dad cuts through the conversation once again. “Speaking about another day—what about lunch at Devon tomorrow?”

“That would be amazing,” you say. “Isn’t that right, Steven?”

He’s mouthing no and shaking his head, but he puts his best effort to say yes to his dad without seeming cruel. “Of…course. Of course.”

His father chuckles. “Alright then. I should get some sleep for preparation tomorrow.” He bids you two goodbye and you do the same, and he hangs up.

Steven immediately rests his head in his hands. “Why’d you do that? All he’s going to do is embarrass me in front of the girl I love.”

You move to right next him, and pull his face to your chest. “Aw, Steven,” you smooth his hair. “I don’t really mind if he’s too forward or such. It adds to the fun.” You tilt his head up to yours. “And I love you too. There’s nothing he can say to change that.”

“Really?” There’s a glided look in his eyes.

You don’t answer with words. You press your lips to his for a single second, and get off the couch.

“It’s late,” you say, smoothing the folds from your clothes. Steven’s a bit starstruck, expecting something much longer. You make your way to the bedroom “I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

When you’re lying right next to the nightlight, book in hand, Steven comes in.

You pay him no mind when he’s changed out of his and is lying next to you.

“What are you reading?” He asks, a few moments after you flip a page. 

Picking up a bookmark and inserting it into the pages, you set the novel down on the side-table, and turn to him. “A thriller. It’s nothing good, actually.”

He gives a deep breath, looking up to the ceiling. “When I was a kid, I thought being a novelist was one of the professions I could be. That never went past a dream.”

“Why not?” You ask, wrapping your arms around one of his. “I mean, you have the perfect prose for it.”

“Thank you,” he murmurs. “But I wanted to specialise in romance. I’m not sure why that genre out of all, but that’s what I most remember. Yet, like dear Wallace had told you a few weeks ago, I never was an expert in the field.”

“How about now?” You sit up, wanting to look at his face. He has his eyes closed. “You’ve got the time _and_ the experience.”

The corners of his lips turn upwards, and he gives a little laugh. “I wish. But I have Champion and geology duties—and Devon corporation. I already have my future carved out for me.”

Leaning back on the pillow, you don’t say anything. 

“What about you?” Steven asks, unexpectedly. “Your future is your own creation. You’ve got the freedom to choose. What will you choose?”

You think in silence for a while. What do you really want to do? “Mega Evolution, obviously. But that’s a discussion for another day.”

Steven turns, giggling a bit at the words you’ve echoed. He embraces you. “So you’re going to continue your two years left of studies and then work it out from there?”

“Yes. All I have planned right now is two years spent living with you.”

“Aw,” he pinches your cheek. “How sweet can you get?”

You push his hand away. “I’ll go bitter if you keep doing that.”

He smirks, and relaxes himself right next to you. Sighing happily, he traces little lines on your arm. “Two years with you, [Name]. I promise they’ll be fun.”

“And I promise that I won’t get bored,” you joke, moving to press a kiss on his cheek. “I love you, Steven. Good night.”

He gives another sigh and squeezes your hand. “I love you too.”

You have a dreamless sleep, but it’s no matter. You’re already living a dream.

The sun’s overhead today. It’s a cloudless sky, and when you reach Rustboro, you’re grateful for the huge sunhat you decided to bring along.

You have your hand in Steven’s, and the other on the Eon Flute. After you learnt how to play properly, Latios would follow your every command, taking you places Latias wouldn’t.

“You’re officially a Trainer now,” Steven had said, when you flew around Mt. Chimney. “With Latios as your starter.”

“Actually,” you rebut back, not taking your eyes off the Hoenn skyline. “I’d like to think Swellow as my starter.”

“Ah. A specialist in Pokémon who hate the ground. The opposite of me.”

He was smug when he said that, and you couldn’t think of any comeback until you reach Rustboro.

“I’m not going to battle you anytime soon. Unlike a certain Champion I know, I believe Pokémon should be subjected to fighting to bring out their full potential.”

Steven backs up, completely in awe. At first you think you’ve accidentally insulted him, but then he rushes forward and takes your waist, lifting you up.

You protest. “Hey! What’s this for?”

“I’m not letting you join Team Plasma in Unova,” he says, breathless and laughing. “For one, I’m completely against Teams, and for two, that means leaving me—”

“How’s my little Champion and daughter-in-law?” Steven’s dad is outside, wearing one of those Hawaiian shirts. You struggle, trying to get a proper look at him, but before you call out Steven puts you down. His father grins when he sees you and gives you a big hug. 

When he turns to hug his son, Steven groans. “Dad, can you not? Please. I’m not seventeen anymore.”

“I don’t think anyone can grow out of hugs,” you comment, as there’s a one-sided embrace.

“She’s right,” his father lets him go. “And I know you love them. Last time [Name] was here, I always chose a time to walk in your room when you had your arms around her—”

 _“Dad!”_ Steven signs in defeat. “I admit it—I do. I do love hugs, if they’re only from a certain person,” He side-glances at you, and you flush a bit. Then he’s back to staring at his dad full on. “And are you sure nothing’s burning in the kitchen right now?”

Mr Stone stops smiling, and excuses himself to rush back in. You hold in your laughter.

Steven rests a hand on his forehead. “We’ve only done greetings and I’m already exhausted.”

Tip-toeing to reach his cheek, you plant a kiss. “Don’t worry so much,” you slide an arm around his shoulders. “He’s just happy to see you happy.”

“You’re completely fine with this?” He asks, joining his gaze with yours. You nod in return.

“Of course I am. I’ve never really…” you take a deep breath. “I’ve never met my own. My own father, I mean. Having a bit of knowledge of what it’s like is really nice.”

He says nothing, and looks overhead to the clear sky, closing his eyes. 

“Um…” you mumble out. “I’m going inside. It’s hot.”

Steven gives a deep breath and follows you in.

Devon is brighter than it was the last time you visited. Windows open, curtains pulled back, and it seems like it had a spring cleaning too. 

You twirl around above the glass casing of fossils, feeling the cool air on your skin. “This is worth it, Steven,” you call out.

He seems back to his cheerful self, arms crossed and an eyebrow arched. “Oh, really?”

“Yes!” You breathe, stopping the spinning. You go up to him, taking his hands in yours, pulling him backwards. “Come on. Try it.”

“Try what?” He doesn’t know what to do. “Dance? I don’t know how to very much—”

“Just feel the air! It’s cool.” You spin him around, and at first he seems terrified, but soon he’s laughing like you are, feeling the cold wind in such contrast to the hot day. 

When you feel this day couldn’t get better, a certain lady at the counter interrupts you. “Excuse me, lady, you’ll break the glass.”

You’ve forgotten all about her. You stop spinning, and give a slight glare to her.

“That’s not possible,” Steven interjects. He lets go of you and makes his way up to the counter. “It’s steel injected. Didn’t my dad tell you that? There’s no possible way to break it unless with diamond.”

He’s getting worked up and you’re getting worried. “Steven,” you say, hoping he knows what you mean behind the word.

The counter girl doesn’t falter in her stance. Steven turns away from facing her, arms crossed again.

“And,” he states before moving away, “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t address my girlfriend in such a rude manner next time.”

You flush all over—it’s the first time he ever called you that in front of people.

He takes your hand again without a word, and leads you to the dining room. 

His dad is just setting the plates down when you arrive.

“Perfect timing!” He says, jollily. He directs you to your seats, which are side by side together.

It’s much more open and light now, the dining room. Like the lobby, the windows are open, wind fluttering in. You lean back on your seat, closing your eyes.

“Are you having fun?” Steven asks. You feel his hand close around yours.

You just laugh. “I really like being free, you know.”

There’s a creaking sound, and Mr Stone comes along, platefuls of food on his arms. 

You’re expecting a delightful lunch from the aroma, and that’s what you get. Not on the table, though. On your clothes.

Steven’s dad slipped—most of the plates landed on the table, but the dish of pasta decided it was better suited on you.

There’s spaghetti sauce all over your chest, and pasta gathers in your lap. 

Mr Stone stutters. “I—[Name], I’m so sorry—”

“It’s fine,” you assure him, getting up from the chair, spilling the rest of the mess on the floor. “It’s completely fine, don’t worry!”

Steven has now caught on what has happened, and rubs his temple. He sighs, impatient. “Dad, just get this cleaned up.” He stands up too. “I’ll see if I have any extra clothes for you, alright?”

The halls of Devon seem much longer when you have pasta on your shirt. When you reach Steven’s room, it seems like half an hour had past.

“I’m so sorry about my father,” Steven says, unlocking the door. “He’s—he’s sort of the unbearable type. That’s why I insist to live far away from him as I can.”

“Really? He might be clumsy, but I think he’s genuine. He’s sweet, and he obviously cares about you, Steven. He cares about me too, and that’s something I haven’t had a lot of.”

Steven shuffles through his closet, finding something of your size. “I can get drained if I spend time around him too much,” he takes a white dress shirt out. “I do love him, I truly do, but after twenty-five years of the pressure of soon owning Devon, I need a rest. Here,” he unhooks his shirt off the hanger. “Do you need help getting out of that?”

“I’m okay,” you go a hint of red. You take the button-up from him. “Um…can you turn around, please?”

He laughs, but eventually slides into his bathroom to give you peace.

Taking off your current shirt, you use it to wipe the bits that got on your neck. “Where am I supposed to put this, Steven?” You call out.

“Just on the hamper,” comes his muffled reply. “Don’t worry about getting anything dirty.”

You do so, soon buttoning up what he chose for you. You call him out when you’re done.

“I think it’s a bit too big for me,” you take it by the ends and look how far it goes. “Don’t you think?”

“What can I say?” Steven chuckles. “I’m biased. You look beautiful in everything.”

“Oh, you’re such a sap.” You’re flushed all over. “Sappy.”

He just continues to smile at you. “We should get going, [Name].”

He takes your hand, and leads you through the halls.

To break the silence, you start conversation. “Aren’t you hot wearing your suit in weather like this?”

“To admit it, I sort of am,” he replies, going down the final flight of stairs. “I’d offer you my blazer, but that would be rude.”

You stifle a laugh. “I don’t mind, actually, it would be nicer.” It’s the truth. You feel a bit conscious his shirt, for it’s not exactly that opaque—his suit jacket would be nice, freeing your arms from being crossed over your chest.

Stopping right outside the dining room door, he turns to see you. “Really?” He asks, and you nod. “Okay, then.” He slips it off, and puts it on you.

“Ah, thanks,” you beam, pushing the doors. “Now we’ve got the same amount of clothing on.”

Steven just bursts laughing.

You glare at him, taking your seat. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he waves it off. He stops himself from laughing as you glance at him. “Nothing. I swear.”

“You sure?” You reach out to pinch his cheek, slightly.

“I promise. Just thought of something Wallace and I used to joke about.”

Steven’s dad has a rolling tray now. Everything goes where it’s meant to be on the table. Soon you’re gathered  around it, the way you planned when you walked into this building.

“So, son,” Steven’s dad says, changing topics halfway through the meal. “What was it about that Granite Cave you wanted to tell me about?”

“Granite Cave?” You ponder. The name sounds familiar. “I don’t remember so much about it.”

“My friend told me about it,” Steven sets his utensils down to join his arms together. “In that cave, there’s a depiction of something I just can’t pinpoint. I believe, whatever it is, it will resurface soon—”

The door creaks open. It’s the smug girl at the front counter. “La—” she stops herself when Steven glares at her. “Ehm. Miss [Name], it’s a call for you.”

Steven’s dad sets his fork down. “That must be Professor Sycamore. It’s about the Kalos move. Remember?”

“Oh,” you say, pushing your chair out of the way. “Excuse me, then.”

The girl leads you to the President’s room. The entire time you feel uneasy.

As she opens the door, she pauses and looks you in the eye. “Don’t expect me to not know what’s this about,” she whispers.

“I—what? It’s no secret—”

“I’ve seen that boy grow up,” she talks over you, not registering what you said. “And I’ve never seen him as happy as he is right now. If that Kalos professor takes you—takes his happiness away from him—I’ll never forgive you.”

She opens the door wide for you, and leaves you alone.

You stay in the state of shock for a moment. She must be lying, right? Steven has his life made out for him. He’d be happy, even without you…right?

Burying the thoughts deep in your mind, you pick up the phone on Mr Stone’s desk.

“H—Hello?” You try to keep your voice level, failing miserably.

There’s a crumple of papers, and a crumple of clothes. Then you hear the receiver being picked up. “Ah, hello. Is this Mrs [Name] Stone?”

“I—We’re not married, Steven and I. Not married.” _Why do people keep assuming that?_

“Oh, my bad. I just assumed, since Joseph called you his daughter-in-law…anyway, let’s get to the point. You’re studying Mega Evolution, right?”

“I’ve done four years, about to start my fifth when the break is over.”

He laughs. “Ah, you’re already more qualified than me. What’s your GPA?”

“Four point zero.”

You can hear him leaning back on his chair. “[Name], what about taking the last two years here in my lab, doing the profession? The last two years are simply hardcore review—there’s no need to spend your time on that.”

“I can still become a Professor without the last two years, right?”

“Of course, mon amie,” he gives a shallow breath. “I’d say that you shouldn’t take those years to become one. All the full coursers—they’re working for me.”

You feel a bit uneasy, being put on edge like this. Could it finally be the end of your studies? “When I get there, I get the full title?”

“Pokémon Professor [Name] [Surname],” he says, “a nice ring to it. Of course you’ll be one. There’s just the permit to sort out, and then you’re officially my co-worker. I think you’re ready for that, aren’t you?” Professor Sycamore has his smile in his voice. You can picture him on his desk, twirling his hair in his fingers.

You feel nervousness bubbling through you. “I—move to Kalos? Right now?”

“I’ve got flight tickets for next week. If you want to, mon amie.”

You think of Steven, you think of leaving him. What about those two years you promised to spend together? You clear your throat. “I’ll think about it.”

“Call me when you decide, alright? Take my number. If you wish, you can ask me for assistance anytime.”

“Thank you. You’re too kind, sir—”

“Ah, no, no,” the professor interrupts. “We are co-workers, yes? You can just call me Augustine.”

“Augustine,” you say, testing out the name. “Thank you. I appreciate the offer.”

You’re about to bid goodbye, but he speaks out again. “Before I forget, [Name], may you tell me your decision within three days? For enough time to cancel if I must.”

Three days. You’ve got three days to choose between two loves of your life. “I’ll try my best,” you breathe. “T—thank you, Augustine.”

“Au revoir, [Name].”

“Um, au revoir to you too?” Was that goodbye in French? You honestly couldn’t remember. “Goodbye.”

Setting the phone down, you let a deep breath out and run a hand through your hair.

Three days? But you’ve literally just moved in! Taking a deep breath, you move to return to the dining table. 

You’re awfully silent the rest of the meal. The Stones talk about Steven’s position as Champion, Mr Stone often asking you if you’ve ever seen him battling, asking you if you’ve seen his shiny Metagross. You just shake your head.

An hour later, you’re at the balcony you’ve been at with Steven last time, except you’re not looking at the view, you’re looking at your hands, clung together.

“You’ve been more silent than usual. Is something wrong?”

Should you tell him? You feel a nullness in your chest, keeping it a secret from him. 

He speaks again before you can even form an answer. “Is it because of my dad’s accident?”

“I…uh…it’s not. It’s something else.”

He puts his right arm around your shoulder blades. “That girl at the counter?”

She was the one to bring those feelings of unease first. “Sort of.”

Sighing, Steven closes his eyes. “She’s always been like that. Over-protective over me. She’s been there from the start, like a mother figure when mine left. I believe it’s a shock to her that now that I’m not young forever, that I’m barely around Devon, that I’ve found someone for me.”

“Oh,” is all you can say. It’s not in malice, not in uninterest. A small weight lifts from your shoulders, at least it puts you out of some stress.

“Please don’t be so worried, [Name],” he squeezes your arm. “You have your future ahead of you. And I don’t want to limit your passion. I love you, and I love that you’ll follow your heart for what’s best for you.”

You want to tell him, but you believe to produce a completely unbiased decision, you must hold the burden yourself. It feels soft in his arms. 

At five P.M., way past your welcome for lunch, you leave Devon with Steven. The sun has set when you reach Mossdeep.

The first thing you do when you’re inside his house is collapse on his couch, sighing deeply.

“Is something bothering you?”

It’s always like him to be so aware of what you’re feeling, past the usual fatigue. You shake your head in reply.

He leaves the room for a while, giving you some space. You sit up on the seat, messing up your hair and pulling his blazer off. Essentially, you’re feeling pissed off right now—but you don’t know to whom or what to.

The door opens, and Steven comes back out. He sits next to you.

“I must inquire,” he states after a moment of not speaking, hand on his chin. “Is there anyway I can help your mood?”

“I don’t know,” admits you, and that’s the truth. 

“Maybe…” he’s slow with his words tonight, sort of embarrassed and blushing all over. “Maybe I can kiss you? Is that alright?”

A smirk comes to your lips as you lean back and gaze at him. “Oh, I don’t know,” you tease him.

Reddening, Steven brings a hand to his neck. “W…what about…um…I—” it’s a whole new level to see him so flustered, having trouble getting his usual eloquence and his words out. “[Name], do you want to—maybe—make out or the such?”

You say nothing, just moving forward and pulling his face towards yours, pressing on his lips with your own deeply. Steven, shocked as he is, finds his back on the couch cushions, your face the first thing he sees. Bringing your hands to cup the side of his head, you lean down to kiss him again.

Then he has his hands on your hips, and then _you’re_ the one who finds yourself pushed against the seat, with Steven atop of you.

With his palms rested either side of your head, you notice his eyes are heavy; they’re filled with something you haven’t seen in him before. “Is this okay?” He asks, in such a deep whisper, suddenly. 

You smile, wrapping your arms around his back, bringing his body closer pressed to yours. If it was possible, he goes even redder.

“I love you,” you whisper to him, when your lips are crooned in his neck, breathing in his scent. “I love you so much, Steven. I love you.”

There’s a slight giggle on his side. His hand is on the back of your head and the other behind your waist. “I love you so much, as well.”

He rises up then, bringing you with him. His gaze is on you, heavy. You want to kiss him some more, but you’re hit with a sudden wave of tiredness, making you feel drained. You untangle yourself from his arms. 

“Steven,” you breathe, getting up and making your way to bed. “I’m going to sleep.”

“Okay,” he understands, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck.

When it’s three A.M., you wake to no alarm or no Fletching tweeting outside. Steven has his arm around your waist, his breath mingling with yours. Pressing your lips to his a single time, you slip out of bed, a scrap of paper and your phone in hand. You go outside before you dial the professor.

“Yes?” Says Syca—Augustine, you remind yourself, his voice sort of raspy, groggy. _Perhaps he’s tired,_ you guess, _working all day._

You give a deep breath before telling him. “I—I’ve decided,” you murmur, leaves rolling in the cold wind, in the sleepy Mossdeep city. There guilt hits you again—what the counter girl said, what little happiness he truly doesn’t have. But you also feel helpless, for your future and your passion. Yet, you still have to follow your heart.

“Augustine, don’t cancel those tickets, please—I’m going to Kalos.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! very, very sorry for the delay. i know i said it would be friday last week, but earthquakes, power cuts, sudden projects, and final exams happened. i’m also coming down with a sort of sickness, staying up late all the time—there’s a possibility i won’t be able to update this until my school year is over, on april 17th.
> 
> things are getting heated :0 who knows what’ll happen next? hehehe :3
> 
> two more chapters, then i'll cover requests. don't worry! i won't forget them.
> 
> thank you so much for reading this. it means a lot to me!


	9. Chapter 9

In twenty-four hours, you’re going to be up in the air, on a flight to Kalos. The ticket’s in a brown envelope in your bedside drawer, your clothes folded, cables arranged, laptop charged and ready for a quick packing. And yes, he doesn’t know yet.

You’re not sure if you want to him to know.

The entire week, you imagined it going like this: bailing him at three A.M., gone when he wakes up. But that always brings a tug to your mind—there’s no way that you’re leaving him without saying anything.

You thought leaving a note would bring him some solace, yet deep down inside you know that nothing will ever calm him like your words.

The S.S. Tidal is rocking on the sea slowly. You’re at the northwest of the ship, looking out at the endless sea reaching the horizon. The sun just rose. You didn’t know Hoenn was _this_ big. 

Steven’s with the captain, who happened to be one of the Elite Four. Drake, his name was, you remember. The second strongest trainer after Steven.

You watch them as Steven shakes his hand and makes his way back to you.

He leans on his back on the rail beside you, looking up to the clear sky, soon closing his eyes and sighing happily. He doesn’t have his usual suit jacket on—he’s just wearing his dress-shirt with the sleeved rolled up, his purple vest over it.

“What’s up?” You say after a while, just to get conversation going.

He hesitates, opening his mouth and then closing it. “The Pokémon League,” he decides to tell you. “There’s a generation of trainers from Johto going to challenge us for the next few months. Looks like our vacation to Unova belongs to next summer.”

What? You’ve no problem with postponing his proposed trip, but… 

You need to tell him. Gulping fears away, you just pour it out. 

“Steven, do you remember that day I stormed out the café, and you calmed me down?”

“The day you moved in with me, where I first told you that I loved you?”  He rolls a lock of his hair between his forefinger and thumb, leaning on the metal railings, shifting his gaze to be on you. “Of course.”

His words feel like punches to the gut. You’re going to miss his voice. Grimacing, you try to continue conversation without showing the falter in your words. “Do—” there’s a slight stutter, but you cover it with a cough. “Do you remember what I said to you right before that?”

Steven stands straight, puts his arm around your shoulders. “You said that you didn’t deserve me,” he presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Perhaps you’re correct—you deserve much better than me.”

“No—I mean,” that was so sudden, you don’t know how to reply. “Steven, you’re honestly an angel; everyone would want to live the rest of their lives with you around. I can’t—and won’t—believe there’s someone better than you.”

“But there is,” he whispers into your hair, and you’re about to rebut him when he speaks again. “You.”

That’s made it much, much more harder to tell him.

At lunchtime, you can’t even meet his eyes. Your hands are shaking, gripped on the cutlery, and he notices. His eyes are full of concern, sitting opposite of you. You blame it on seasickness.

Steven takes your answer silently—he sips water from his glass, a worried gaze on you.

A few minutes later, he speaks again. “Do you want to rest after this?”

“I—” you splutter, using a hand to cover your mouth. Steven stands, but you put your palm out, signalling him to sit back down. “I’m fine,” you breathe out, “I don’t need any sleep.”

He’s frowning now, leaning forward to rub the pad of his thumb on the back of your hand. It’s sort of soothing, somehow. Pulling your fingers to his lips, he presses a slight kiss. “Are you sure?”

You’re not sure at all. The entire morning you’ve felt lightheaded, not from the sway of the ocean. Admitting it, you shake your head.

“I can inquire Drake to turn the ferry to Mossdeep, if you feel up to it—”

“Please don’t do that,” you speak over him. “I feel well enough to go on.”

Steven dabs a napkin on his mouth and stands up before replying. “If you insist,” he holds a hand out to you. “Though you must get some rest.”

“Fine,” you give in, following his lead and rising from your seat. He pays the bill fully, and even though he said not to worry, you still feel a bit of guilt. 

You both make your way to Cabin 2, right in the middle of the hall. Apparently all the cabins were numbered randomly, causing you to check each plated number, until Steven unlocks your door and calls your name.

“I’m really out of it today,” admits you, already halfway under the blanket, not even bothering to undress. “I’m so sorry.”

After sorting the keycard, Steven unbuttons his vest and falls on his back on the bed, right next to you. “It’s nothing to apologise about.”

“I know. I just…” You rub your eyes, mess up your hair. “I just—I don’t know.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

You let out a puff of breath and close your eyes. It feels peaceful now, the rocking of the boat, with Steven at your side. Closing your eyes, sleep doesn’t come. 

Instead, you speak through the peaceful silence. “Steven…I just want to say thank you.”

He’s quick to reply. “Why?”

“You know,” it’s been on your mind for a while, but it’s hard to get out. “Um, that you don’t force me into things, that we’re taking it slow. Thank you.”

“Well, I couldn’t do that to someone I love. But,” he leans up, propping his elbow to look at you properly. “If you ever desire to, just tell me.”

Your face goes the reddest it’s ever been. As you pull up the blanket to cool it down, Steven chuckles a bit.

“Sorry. That was too forward, wasn’t it?”

You shake your head. “It’s okay,” you mumble, “I’ve never had experience, though….”

“Don’t worry, neither do I. We can be awkward at it together.”

You can’t help but smile at his statement. 

He leans back on the mattress. “You know, [Name], I didn’t think it was possible to love someone this much.”

“Oh?” You fake surprise. “What about Metagross?”

“I love my Metagross, yes, but not as much as you.”

You flick jokingly at Steven’s head. “I said it before, and I’ll say it again—you’re too sappy.”

He just laughs, rolls over, and presses his mouth to your cheek. “I can’t help that I love you so much, you know.”

Finally relaxed, you sigh and close your eyes.

Then you hear a crumble of static over the loud speaker, jolting you awake. “We’ve docked at Victory Road! This day-long tour of Hoenn is concluded. Thank you for joining us on the S.S. Tidal!”

Steven chuckles immediately, his laugh a new light in the room. “That’s that opportunity lost.”

As Steven puts his vest back on and you comb through the tangles in your hair, you sigh. There’d be no more little talks like that after today.

You follow him off the ferry, after giving a quick nod to Drake and a promise to talk to him later, when he joins the rest of the Elite Four. 

After a quick stop at Ever Grande city, Steven turns to the left, away from the view of the waterfall, right next to a fixture of rock. “I’m not allowed on Victory Road,” he says as he prods the rock. “Something about Trainers seeing my battle style—but it doesn’t say you’re not allowed here.”

He clicks the right spot, and the crack widens, until a passageway appears.

“A shortcut?” Notes you, making your way down the tunnel with Steven.

Nearing daylight again, he answers. “Sort of. It’s been here for decades.”

When you reach the clearing and see the gates, unease stirs in you. “Are you sure I’m allowed to be here? I don’t have a single badge.”

“You’re not a challenger,” he assures you. “Besides, I’m here with you.”

And then you pass through the red doors. The room is scarcely decorated, with a few tables and chairs pressed to the side. One of the tables, the left one, held three people. The rest of the Elite Four, you believe.

The man with a single tuft of pink hair notices you first. “Who’s she?”

The Trainer with a long blue dress beside the man glares at him. “Sidney, don’t be rude.” He scowls in return, but she ignores him, turning back her gaze to you. “Welcome back, Steven.”

“Ah, hello everyone,” Steven greets them all. “Nice to see you again. I’ve brought someone special with me today,” he tugs a hand around your shoulder in an affectionate way. “This is my girlfriend, [Name].”

The lady with the dress speaks first. “Nice to meet you, [Name]. My name is Glacia, I specialise in ice types. To my right is Sidney, dark type user,” she gives a nod to the man with his arms crossed over his pinstriped shirt. Sidney arches an eyebrow. Glacia then turns to the girl who seems to be one with water types. “And the last one over here is—”

“Phoebe!” She’s overly enusiastic, grabbing both your wrists and shaking them, like a greeting. You smile awkwardly, as Phoebe takes you into a hug. “Steven has told us so much about you!”

Glacia gives a helpless, yet joyful sigh. “It’s true,” she admits. “Nary there is a time he didn’t mention your name in a conversation.”

You turn to look at Steven glaringly, who has his lip bitten and a hand behind his neck, looking redder than usual.

“Also!” Phoebe calls out, letting you out of her embrace. “Ghost type specialist here. What about you?”

Wait— _ghost types?_ Well, it’s certain you can’t judge from appearance. You clear your throat and answer her. “Um, I’m not a Trainer.”

“Really?” Sidney is the one most shocked by that. “But—I believed—”

And then laughter booms through the room, and you whip around, trying to find its source. It’s Drake, arms crossed against his chest, a smug smile on his lips.

“Good one, Steven!” Drake pats on his back, in a friendly manner, but it comes out more like brutal. “I’m bout to get at least a hundred thousand pokébucks richer!”

Sidney scoffs, obviously wanting to debate the situation. “But Latios! Technically, she is a trainer—”

“Gentlemen, please,” Glacia intervenes. Both of them go quiet, and she gives a hint of a smile in return. “Must we forget why [Name] is here for today?”

“A tour?” Phoebe guesses, she turns to you again. “You’ve got to see the room they’ve built for me, it’s all purple and floaty. My aesthetic.”

A tour it was. Sidney’s room was first, a sand dome preceding it. If you hadn’t known he specialised in dark types, sand would’ve been your best guess. 

“It’s an optical illusion,” Drake had explained, when you’re in Phoebe’s dome. “We don’t have enough room for like, four long walkways and the rooms with it.”

Sidney nods, in agreement. “There’s only one walkway, and by the time you enter my room—the first—it rotates, and the atmosphere goes ghost.”

When you reach Glacia’s room, Phoebe clips the flower from her hair to the railing. “There’s a reason why they keep locking the doors in this place, other than to scare you.”

And then you enter Drake’s dome (or most, his 'atmosphere') and Phoebe runs to take her accessory back. 

“So it’s all just one,”  you confirm. “We’ve been on the same catwalk the entire time? What about Steven’s room?”

Sidney does that thing with his face—a smirking smile. “That’s the only thing that doesn’t change at all in here.”

The four of them leave you alone, after pushing those tall, grey doors for you. All you see is another walkway, out of cement this time, and a bright light. 

There’s a bit of ache in your chest. This is the closest feeling you’ll ever get to being a _real_ trainer. It’s not possible now, with Kalos and whatnot. Nevertheless, you continue your walk. 

Steven is there, as expected, when the walkway expands into a circle. There’s a smile on his face when the light reveals you.

“At least it works,” he says. You’re confused, and it shows on your face. “For those Johto challengers.”

You smile at his silliness. 

Steven turns, hands in his pockets. “Eight years I’ve been here, as Champion,” his footsteps are echoed in the room. “At first it was thrilling, being the best in Hoenn, but that soon grew old as the number of trainers dwindled, as the spotlight grew dim.”

You’re still at the centre of the circle, arms around yourself. It’s a bit chilly and eerie in the room. “Couldn’t you just have given up the title?”

“That I could’ve done, but I feel an obligation. The Elite Four right now—they’ve been with me those eight years too, and to relinquish my title…I feel like I’ll let them down.”

You say nothing. More and more proof you both aren’t meant to be. You look nervously at your clasped fingers, and Steven stops his stride right in front of you.

“Are you alright?” He asks, and you look up. “You’re never really this quiet.”

You unconsciously fake a smile right away. “I’m okay, Steven. I’m fine.”

He isn’t convinced, taking your hands in one of his. “It’s because of Kalos, correct?”

You freeze.

“My intuition is usually right,” he continues. “And I didn’t want to worry you.”

“I’m sorry…” you start, pulling your arms back to yourself. “I said yes to him—to the professor—because I could work there already, since I couldn’t afford those last two years,” you press on your eyes. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“It’s fine,” Steven wears a frown on his face. It’s obvious he wants to hug you, console you, but he stands his distance.  “I’m not mad at you, [Name]. This is what you were born to do—this is what you were made for. Hoenn is not where you belong. You belong there, at Kalos, pushing the limit of Mega Evolution at it’s discovery.”

What is he saying? “But what about you—”

“This isn’t about me. This is about you,” he presses his palms to your shoulders, looking you deep in the eyes. “This is about your future.”

Then you get a glance of his face, and like every time else, it’s sincere. His eyes are clear, not clouded with judgement. He certainly has a trait for the candor.

Pulling you into an embrace, he smooths your hair. “When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

“Let’s go home then,” he pulls on your left arm. “You need to get ready.”

You pull the Eon Flute from your purse once you’re outside. The Elite Four understood your reasons to leave (Sidney in particular was elastic, much to Drake’s despair) and bid you a hearty goodbye. 

“If you can, get some of those key stones for us,” Phoebe had called out, winking. “See you, Professor [Name].”

The flight was short—the League and Mossdeep was just a few metres away from each other—and before you know it, you’re back home. 

Steven rushes in. He pulls a huge suitcase from storage, one he never used before, and lays it on your bed.

“Bring whatever you need,” he says. “Whatever you don’t I’ll keep safe for you until you come back.”

That was not necessary, though, since two hours later you have everything you own in that suitcase. You don’t know when you’ll come back—maybe you’ll never come  
back at all.

You move the suitcase off the bed when it’s nearing midnight, and you just collapse without changing. There’s a weight off your shoulders—anxiety, it must be—since Steven is so understanding.

But your sleep is still dreamless, and when you open your eyes you still have a nagging worry in your mind. 

It’s gone when you see Steven leaning over you, a sweet smile on his lips. “Hi,” he says, poking your cheek. “It’s your big day.”

The sky was still dark, but had the hint of twilight in it. You check the clock in the kitchen; it’s five in the morning, and Steven made you a hearty breakfast.

He sits opposite. Hand on his cheek, gaze on you. “When’s your flight?”

“Eight.”

Steven gets up. “I’ll get a boat ready for you.”

Thirty minutes later, the sun is halfway above the horizon. You sit at the edge of the small boat Steven rented, hands clutched together. It feels nerve racking, the entire ride to the island airport.

Steven can sense it. He scoots next to you, puts an arm around your shoulders, plants a kiss on your cheek. “Don’t worry so much.”

You feel more pathetic, and before you know it you’re in tears again. “I—I’m so sorry,” you mumble. “I’m sorry. I wanted a future for both of us, and this is the only way I’ll be able to—I’ll be able to be someone important.”

“It’s okay,” Steven says, pressing his lips on the back of your hand. “It’s okay. I love you, and I love your decision. I love you. Do whatever you want, as long as you’re happy.”

You bury your face in his chest. “I…sorry.”

“[Name], it’s okay, honestly.” He rests his chin on your head. “We’ll be fine. I won’t be able to kiss you whenever I want to anymore, but we’ll be fine.”

Your boat docks on the island. Rubbing the last tears from your eyes, you watch Steven try to drag your suitcase across sand.

You submit your ticket immediately, the other one still in your purse. After you get your suitcase scanned, but before you enter the first gate, Steven tugs on your arm. “Please have a safe trip.”

You’re feeling much better now. “Okay, I will—and, don’t follow me. I don’t know how many metal detectors you’re going to put off.”

His lips turn up to a smile. “I won’t, promise,” he gives a last kiss to your forehead. “I love you. I’ll call you everyday, if that’s fine?”

“Of course. And I love you too,” you give him a final hug, and untangle. “I should get going now.”

And then you enter the gates, about to delve deeper in the terminal. But Steven grabs your attention before you do.

“Goodbye, [Name]!” He has his hands curled around his mouth, his body pressed against the final gate line. “I love you!”

It’s a bit embarrassing, him shouting as loud as he can. You tint red, holding a hand up to him, pulling your scarf up your face to hide the blush. 

The rest of the day goes uneventful, ten hours on the first flight, a four hour stop, and eight hours on the second. You either try to sleep or read, trying to keep the anxiety down.

It doesn’t work. Often you found your hands twitching, trying to find someone to hold. And it’s hard to hold someone when they’re six thousand miles away, in a little region called Hoenn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally! it was a rough few weeks, delay after delay. i had all the issues i could’ve had—internet shortage, school, family, friends, and my love life—but it’s all sorted now. i think.
> 
> the ninth out of ten. i had a few notes for a sequel, but i don’t have anything planned. i’ll get all my other projects out of the way first (they’re mostly standalones) and i’ll see what i can do.
> 
> also thank you for the feedback last chapter! i did some consideration and i won’t write anything of that nature. ;u; sorry!
> 
> thanks for sticking around this entire time, i’ve never had this much support in my life. i love you all ♡


	10. Chapter 10

Kalos is much colder than you expected. 

At least you’ve brought a variety of outfits with you, enabling you to layer them against the cold. But your fingers are still freezing, because someone isn’t here to hold them. 

The plane landed in Anistar City, a city east of Lumiose. Anistar had a huge, pink rock on display, it’s meaning unknown; you could’ve stared at it for hours, lest had you spotted the Professor holding a card with your name written in a loopy, cursive handwriting.

After the rituals everyone has to go through after a flight, you find yourself shivering in the Kalos air. You severely underestimated how many layers you needed—proof of that is the way your fingers are almost frozen curled around your suitcase handle.

Augustine is right next to you, arms crossed against his chest, wearing a smile on his face as he looks at the view of Anistar. “So!” He puts a friendly hand on your shoulder, and it feels toasty. Perhaps he’s built a natural defence against the temperature. “How do you like it here? Very different from Hoenn, I suppose.”

“Cold,” is all you manage to say. 

He gives a chuckle. “I forgot to tell you how cold this place was, compared to Hoenn—would you like my coat?”

You nod swiftly, right away. “Sure.” He unrolls the sleeves of his button-up first, takes his lab coat off, and hands it to you. You put in on as quick as you could, and it does shelter you much better from the climate. “Also, Professor,” you look back in his gaze, once you feel better. “What is that rock?”

“Ah, as I suspected…I thought that would be the first thing that catches your interest,” he flicks a curl of his hair. “That, mon chéri, is why Kalos is the home of Mega Evolution.”

And it clicks. You’ve read about it before, perhaps in one of Steven’s dad’s books. It’s official name has slipped you completely, but you still remember specifics, like how at eight in the evening the sundial spins in such a perfect fashion it seems extraterrestrial. It is the reason why Mega Stones were discovered in the first place. 

It’s eight in the morning now, twelve hours away from the cords spinning, but it still mystifies you. You’re stuck in a stance, and maybe you would’ve been for the rest of the day too if Augustine didn’t flick at your forehead. 

“Salut ma belle!” He says in a joking manner, as you drive back into reality. He holds out his hand, and you takes it. “This isn’t the only place in Kalos, [Name]. You haven’t even seen Lumiose yet.”

He leads you through the west terminal, him rolling your suitcase at his left. At first, it feels warmer inside, until you exit and find yourself hit in the face with a blast of cold wind. 

“Mamoswine Road,” Sycamore describes it. “It’ll be a first.”

He helps you up on the Mamoswine idling before the four foot snow, following suit after you, sitting behind you. “Just hold the lead,” he hands you the rope. “They’re very independent, competent.”

Despite being in the middle of a blizzard, it feels peaceful. You feel the puff of your breath brush your cheeks, and it’s much better when you’re not freezing to death.

And then the Mamoswine lurches to a stop and Sycamore’s forehead collides with your shoulder. 

“I—” he’s at a lost for words. “Maybe it’s your scent. It’s very flowery, savez-vous? The scent of Hoenn.”

You go back on track. Fortunately, Mamoswine doesn’t act on impulses to run anymore. 

It feels like an eternity passed when you finally reach the terminal. You brush the snow off your clothes and the white coat you’re wearing. 

“How much longer?” You ask, after catching your breath. It’s a shame you can’t use the Eon Flute here in Kalos. “I want to go home.”

Sycamore chuckles. “There’s a single route left after the next town, mon amie. Just grasslands, now, and then we should be in Lumiose.”

A few minutes later, you’ve left Dendemille town (without picking up a dozen bottles of Moomoo milk from a friendly girl first), and you’re now following the professor through the grassland. You’ve underestimated the _height_ of the grass, often losing sight of Sycamore once he passes through some. It’s become embarrassing to call out his name so much. He just curves the right side of his lips and takes your hand.

At least it isn’t freezing cold anymore, right?

When you reach the final terminal, you’re already sick of Kalos. You rub your temples, trying to stop a headache you feel coming on. Sycamore’s just amused by this, as he was with every reaction you’ve had. He still has the annoying smirk on his lips, seemingly never leaving.

“Regret coming here already, mon amie?”

“No,” you retort immediately. Traveling the across routes may be hard, but there’s nothing that you’ve wanted more than to move here. Wait—maybe someone has taken that title, that title of wanting. Yes, someone’s definitely is at the top of your list of what you want. And you already have him. The thought makes you absentmindedly bring a smile to your face.

You’re still smiling when you see finally see Lumiose. The city is bigger than any in Hoenn; perhaps it’s larger than all the cities in that region combined. 

It’s beautiful—buildings joined together in such a perfect way, curving around a single tower. You’ve read about this before. Prism tower, it’s called; it’s one of the Kalos region’s Pokémon Gyms.

You think back to Mauville City, Hoenn’s hub for travellers. You already know that Wattson remodelled it to fit in with the budding technology Kalos is known for (you’ve seen approximately two people use some device that projects holographic images. It’s a big step from Devon Corp’s PokéNavs, which for some reason look a bit clunky now).

It’s mesmerising, the Prism tower and how the way it looks with the sun at it’s canted angle. And you would’ve been staring at it for the rest of the day if Professor Sycamore hadn’t been there again.

“[Name]!” That’s when he caught your attention, but you didn’t turn to acknowledge it. He just sighs. “Just come to the building with the Pokéball pillars with you’re done, okay?”

“Wait, wait,” you call out, looking around in every direction to find Augustine. You spot him to your left, his arms crossed, lips pressed thin. “I’m coming now! Sorry.”

Then you’re back on track, following him on the sidewalk, he at your right side.

“You should see the city when the all the lights are on, mon chéri,” a flick at his halo of dark hair. He’s constantly fixing it; a necessity if he wants to keep the style as flawless as it is. “Heh, if dear Steven allows me to, I would take you to the best restaurant we have in this region one day.”

“Aww, thank you, Augustine. I’m sure Steven wouldn’t mind,” you say, and unexpectedly he goes silent. He stops in his tracks, making you have to turn your head to look at him. “Is something wrong?” you ask.

He shakes his head. “I’m well,” he stutters out. “But I have to ask you a question, will you answer honestly?”

He’s confusing you a bit, but you nod. “Of course. What is it?”

“Do you trust him? Steven, I mean—do you trust him fully?”

Now he’s really freaking you out, but you hide your discomfort. “Yes, I do. Why?”

Disregarding your question, he continues. “And he does to you to?” 

“Yes. I have no doubt about it.”

“Oh.” Sycamore runs a hand through his hair, smoothly. At least he’s back to his usual self. “Oh, okay. I was just wondering. That’s… that’s something I aspire to have again one day.”

You don’t have a clue what he’s talking about.

The rest of the walk to his lab is accompanied by an awkward silence. The trip wasn’t that long, but long enough for you to feel awkward energy between you two.

It’s shattered once you go through the doors. More eloquently, it was scared out of you, being pounced by a girl.

She couldn’t have been more than five years younger than you, but she has the energy of a child. She reminds you of Phoebe, the way she’s shaking your hand. You force a smile to her. “Hi?”

Sycamore, fortunately, online is back to being the French nerd he is. “Serena!” he calls to the girl. “What are you doing?!”

The girl, Serena, pouts. “A future co-worker to be! I should introduce myself!” 

“I’m absolutely sure that isn’t the proper way to introduce yourself, Serena.”

More pouting. She crosses her arms, flips her hair as she turns, heading to the elevator. 

Sycamore sighs. “She’s seventeen, waiting to get her degree, and she spends all her time bothering me.”

For some reason, it makes you laugh. “Ah, she’s nice, though,” you say. “I’d definitely be wanting to work with her.”

After a few more introductions to the other staff Sycamore has, you follow the route Serena had taken, up the elevator. It’s a bit tight, the elevator—you’re almost pushed against the wall, and bringing luggage around with you isn’t doing any good. You skip the second floor in favour of the third, where Sycamore’s office is, and where yours will be too.

It’s neater than you expect it. to be Really, the only thing a mess is the books arranged on his shelf, and the paintings scattered everywhere. But it’s a nice touch, and it definitely screams _this is Sycamore’s office._

He points to the wall opposite of his ivory desk, a clear space. “That’s where they’re going to put your desk once you’ve got experience.”

“Ah, thank you,” you say. “Where do I stay right now?”

“Right now?” He’s confused, a blank expression on his face. “What do you mean? I’m not going to let you work!”

You blink. “What?”

“It’s the first day!” Sycamore exclaims, throwing his arms up in a way that reads completely him. “There’s jet-lag, and of course, you wanting to see the city. I don’t hold it against you. I’ll let you go, unless you want to see the apartment I’ve got you first?”

Oh, the apartment—you’ve completely forgotten about it. “I think I’ll take the latter,” you admit, stretching your arms in a way to wake you up. The entire flight you didn’t sleep at all… “I’m actually pretty tired.”

In a horrible parallel of your past life, your apartment is situated above a café. Well, since there are a lot of cafés in Kalos, it’s sort of unavoidable. 

Sycamore chose the café closest to his lab, almost across it, a few meters east. It’s painted in black, a contrast to your mother’s white. He leads the way up the stairs and gives you the key. 

You unlock the door and step in. It’s not much, but it’s definitely bigger than the attic you use to live in. It’s bare, no furniture, reminding you of Steven’s home. A smile comes to your face as you walk in, surveying it.

“Don’t worry about rent for the first three months, mon chéri,” Sycamore explains, resting his forearm on the doorframe, the light from the hallway giving his being a glow. “I’ll pay that. Is there anything else you need?”

“No, thank you,” you say. “I think I’m just going to sleep.”

He backs up to the hall. “I’ll leave you to it,” and then he bows in such an elite fashion. It makes you want to laugh, but you stay put.

And in an hour you settle in, packing all your stuff away, closing your closet now full of your clothes. It’s barely noon, but when you hit the mattress you’re already asleep. 

Disoriented, you jolt awake when night has fallen from a dreamless sleep. It’s around eight, maybe. There’s a ringing in your head—wait, that’s probably just your phone. 

Reaching over the bedside table to get it, you know who it is without looking at the screen. You click it on. “Steven!”

The first thing you hear is a slight laugh, which you know he’s smiling with. “I love you,” is the second thing you hear, and it’s laced with static and it reminds you of all the miles away you’re from him. Your heart takes a plunge. 

“I love you too,” you feel a little teary-eyed. “How was your day?”

A silent moment before he replies. “I woke up just a moment ago, but I spent yesterday a bit lonely. I didn’t leave the house.”

“Aw,” you lean back, fumbling a bit with your hair. “Don’t be so…” it’s hard to find the word. “Don’t be so _dull_ , Steven. There’s much more to life than moping around, waiting for me.”

“In my defence, there was nothing to do.” You can hear him press his lips together. “What about you? How was your day, nine hours in the past?”

“Cold. Really cold. I rode a Mamoswine today, since the road was snowed so deep, people couldn’t trod on it. And also there’s this huge sundial in the city my plane landed in, it’s as clear as pink diamond,  and guess what! It has magic, and, um….” You trail off, fearful that his attention was caught somewhere else. “Sorry.”

“Hmm? For what?”

“I—I’m a bit boring,” you twist a bit of your hair. “I’ll just…shut up. Sorry.” It’s a reflex—when you’ve told your mother about your day before, she’d brush every word off. You know now that she was just being rude, that there’s some people who would love to listen to you, but old habits die hard.

You hear Steven sigh. “Don’t feel bad, [Name],” he whispers. “Talk about anything, and I won’t mind. I love the sound of your voice.”

You want to reach into the screen and hug him tight right now, but it’s impossible. You settle for flattery. “You’re too nice to me, Steven.”

“You truly deserve it,” His voice is low. “You are the most wonderful person I’ve ever met, and I have the pleasure to call you mine.”

It’s reassuring, relaxing, that you imagine him as the pillow your arms are wrapped around long after you convince him to hang up and go to work.

It was fate, waking up just before dawn cracks the horizon. Already, you’re adjusting to Kalos. You’re not sure how you feel about it. 

Passing the early morning, you trod down the stairs of the apartment and find yourself in the café under it, Café Introversion. The room is already packed with people, but the noise is still at an all time low. That’s where it got it’s name from.

Pushing the door open and stepping outside, you make your way to the Labs. Surprisingly, Augustine is idling around outside, whipping his head up when he spots you.

“[Name]!” He throws his arms up, happy, something that Kalosians are pretty known for. “Bonjour! You’re really early, hmm? I have been waiting for you.”

There’s a tone in his voice that is unsettling, but you brush it off since you haven’t known him in real life for so long. “Yes?” you reply. “What is it?”

“Your permit,” he says, sounding out of breath already. Is that another Kalos thing? “Your permit for training in professorship. Well, it won’t be a _full_ one, since it depends. If you decide to stay here, I can get you citizenship so you can be full-time. But if you want to go back to Hoenn, Professor Birch will have to assist you getting full-time over there.”

Hoenn? Go back to Hoenn? “H—how long does it last? The training, I mean?”

“Hmm? A year, at most. But you can cut it short if you’re exceptional at it.”

A year in Kalos…. A year without Steven. 

Apparently you snap out of reality, because the next thing you feel is Sycamore shaking your shoulders. Your hearing tunes back in right after. “[Name], can you hear me?” Sycamore is saying, still gripping on your arms.

“Wh—what? I’m fine,” you splutter, pushing his hands away. “I’m fine.”

“Do you need rest? Have you had breakfast? Did you get enough sleep? Is it the weather?”

He’s starting to sound like your mother, back when she had one ounce of heart in her. The thought makes you frown, and his eyebrows draw deeper.

“I can get your permit alone,” he explains. “You need rest.”

“I’m fine, Augustine, really.” You force a smile, but you’re not sure if he buys it. Instead of continuing to lie to him, you admit it. “I forgot breakfast existed, honestly.”

Before you can apologise, he has your hand in his, and he’s in a flurry racing through the streets of the city. 

And then you’re right outside a pure red café. How he knew the exact directions, when to turn and when to stop, you don’t know. And you have a feeling you’ll never be able to navigate Lumiose as well as him.

“Lysandre Café,” he says. There’s a forlorn look in his eyes. “My…friend…used to own this. He doesn’t anymore, but they still serve good breakfast.”

Sycamore takes you in, raising his hand to the barista who eagerly waves back. He strolls close to the counter as you feel awkward and stay back, using this as an excuse to check the menu. 

“The usual, Professor?” The barista asks, as Sycamore leans low on the counter.

“Oh, yes. And,” he nods his head to you. “I have someone else with me today. What do you want, [Name]?”

“Um…” What is it with Kalos always making you embarrassed? “Pancakes?” It was the only option. You couldn’t read anything else on the menu.

The barista smiles and leaves the room as the Professor motions you to sit next to him at the counter.

“You don’t have to do this, Professor,” you say, tapping your fingers on the red wood.

“It’s fine, I don’t mind,” he beams. “Steven would never forgive me if you ever got hurt.”

Teasingly, you sigh. “I can take care of myself. Doesn’t he realise that?”

“I’m sure you can, mon chéri. But really?” He throws his hands in the air, in distain. “Forgetting breakfast exists? I need to intervene once in a while.”

The barista comes back, trays in both hands. He sets yours down first, then the other, and asks: “Quelle boisson aimeriez-vous, ma chère?”

Why does everyone think you’re a local? You blink your confusion. “Um, what?”

Sycamore to the rescue, as usual. “What drink do you want, [Name]?”

“Oh,” for a while there, you thought he was asking something completely off-topic from the café. “Tea, please.” The boy looks over to Sycamore, and he nods for the same. When he’s out of earshot, you whisper to the Professor. “Why does everyone think I’m Kalosian?”

He chuckles, before taking a bite out of a dish that looks delicious, but you cannot name. “You’ve got the eyes.”

The lovely barista comes back and slides both your tea, but doesn’t leave before asking Sycamore something first. “Une copine enfin, Professeur?” A glance toward you. “Pas de cela ici?”

Your neck gets a prickly feeling; they’re probably talking about you.

Sycamore takes a sip of his tea and shakes his head. “Bien sûr que non. Elle est mon collègue,” he says, sounding unusually calm. You just stare at them, confused. “Et d'ailleurs, elle a quelqu'un qui l'aime beaucoup.”

The barista winks at you, and turns to leave to the kitchen.

“What was that about?” You ask for a translation the second time, and Sycamore is just there, relaxing, halfway through his breakfast.

“Oh,” he brushes it off like nothing. “He asked why you were here, in Kalos. I told him that you were my coworker.”

You accept that explanation, yet you can’t help but wonder if there was something else to that conversation. Pushing the thoughts away, you finally remember that breakfast exists.

The day goes by cooly. It rains in the afternoon, but you’ve got all work done before lunch, and you’re idling away in the waiting area of Sycamore’s office, a little kid picking mud from his shorts your only company. Sycamore’s getting your desk ready, and even though it’s two floors away you can hear him struggling to push it in place.

You’re complementing your fingers were built when your phone rings. You pull it out immediately, and halfway though the second ring you click it on. “Hello, Steven?”

“Ah,” you can tell already that isn’t Steven. “It’s Wallace.”

You check the caller ID once more—it says it’s from Steven’s number. Could this just be a glitch, having an international number? “W—Wallace?” You stutter, trying to hide your disappointment. “Where’s Steven?”

“Doing the Champion thing, dear,” you hear him sigh. “He’s been at it nonstop since those Johto trainers came today. But what about you? How’s life?”

You shake the confusion away. “Good. I got my permit earlier. For starting a professorship. Uh,” it’s hard fishing for topics when Wallace is on the line. You still don’t know him that well, and have no idea what he’s into. Giving a wild guess, probably fashion and teasing his friends to the maximum? “Um, how about you?”

“As part of the Hoenn League, I can honestly say I am royally _exhausted_. I keep hearing ice break in my sleep—oh—” What was that? On the line you hear ruffling, muffled laughter, and that’s probably Steven telling Wallace to back off his stuff. And then the phone gets picked up again.

“Hello? Who is this? I’m sorry, Wallace—”

You cut him off with your laughing. “It’s fine, Steven.”

“[N—Name]! Hello!” Laughter in the back of the line again, most likely Wallace taking his leave. “Hello, I mean. I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s fine. I wanted to talk to you, anyways.”

“Oh,” he has the slightest hint of sweetness in his voice, and you know he’s grinning. Your heart drops. “What did you want to tell me?”

You wished for it to be delayed or such, or for he to learn via osmosis so you wouldn’t have to say the words. Gulping, you get the start out: “Steven, please don’t be mad at me.” And then forcing down a choke, since your throat is probably betraying you and closing, so he wouldn’t be disappointed. “Um… I have to stay here for a year. Three hundred and sixty-five days. I—Sorry.”

He doesn’t hesitate. “Then I’ll talk to you everyday. For three hundred and sixty-five times, there won’t past a day where you won’t hear me say I love you.”

You feel your cheeks glow red. “Steven….”

“I’ll never get mad at you, since you’re making yourself happy. And I want you to be happy, even if I can’t do that.”

There’s a sad tone to his voice, and you speak immediately to reassure him. “You already make me happy, Steven. Everything about you makes me happy.”

A sigh. Not one of sadness though, one of relief. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you say. “I love you so much too.”

The little kid you share the waiting area looks at you with a weirded out expression. 

It’s nightfall when you’re done pushing your desk in position, assembling bookcases, and arranging volumes in order. Despite Kalos being freezing compared to Hoenn, sweat beads up on your forehead, and you bring the sleeve of your sweater to it. 

“Feel free to skip tomorrow,” Sycamore calls out, stretching his arms in the particular Sycamore fashion. He brings up his hand to his mouth and yawns, reminding you of what Steven’s father said about him not having a normal sleeping schedule once. You want to laugh but you’re too exhausted to, so you simply puff your cheeks.

You tell him that you’ll be here tomorrow as you finish up, grabbing your bag and clicking the down button on the elevator. As the doors open the to first floor, sleep almost hits you like the wind; when you finally reach your apartment you just collapse on to bed, and sleep engulfs you right away.

The next day in Kalos is the first day, technically, in terms of office work.

You rise from dreamless darkness as the alarm rings, hitting the bell square on the top. You feel drained, despite sleeping for twelve hours, but you shake it off. After you wash up and get ready, you make your way to the lab, not forgetting to pick up a Lumiose Galette first. Breakfast now does exist again, fortunately.

The first thing you hear when you reach the third level is Professor Sycamore’s snoring. Like you had expected, he’s spent the entire night catching up on whatever he’s neglected. You force back a laugh as you set your bag down on your desk, not wanting to wake him up.

That, of course, fails. Your phone rings when you settle in your seat, and Sycamore jolts awake right away. 

You pick it up, turning it to silent mode. Sycamore catches your gaze immediately, and the lopsided frown he has turns into a cheeky smile. “Good morning, [Name]. Feel free to take that call.”

There’s no hint of sarcasm of annoyance in his voice, so you genuinely smile back and excuse yourself to a corner.

You click the answer button. “Steven?”

“Here’s your daily I love you,” and he laughs. “I love you.” His voice is wobbly; although he’s laughing, you can hear how tired he his.

You quickly check the clock on the wall—it’s eight in the morning in Kalos, meaning it’s somewhere past midnight back at home. “Steven,” you say, voice stern. “Why are you awake?”

“Nothing, nothing,” a sigh, or perhaps a yawn? “I had to…clean some smithsonite.”

You try to sound serious, not to gush over his sleepy voice. “Go to sleep, Steven.”

“I love you so much.”

Your cheeks turn a bit pinker. “I love you too—now are you going to get some rest?”

“I will, maybe…maybe after this.”

There’s nothing stopping you from laughing now. “Promise me you’ll put the stones down and go to sleep now?”

Another yawn from him. “Fine, then. If you insist.” You can hear his chair creek, and you internally cheer for yourself. 

“Sorry if I’m being annoying—I just care about you a lot.”

“You’re not annoying,” he whispers, when the sounds at his side of the line die down. “I don’t believe you’re annoying at all, [Name].”

“Thank you. Are you lying in bed already? That was quick. Did you even change?”

He’s silent for a second. “Um.”

It’s no use; he’s hopeless after midnight. “Go on, then. I have to go to work. It’s the first day.”

“Good luck,” you hear him jump out of bed again. “But I doubt you need it.”

“Thanks. I’ll talk to you soon, when you wake up maybe.”

Steven’s sweet laugh fills the speakers, and it hurts to end the call. But you do, and you push your phone in your purse and sit back down at your desk, looking at your hands, trying not to think of all the miles.

Professor Sycamore is actually a very good distraction. He leans on your desk, twinkle in his eyes. “Your husband, right?”

“Husband?” Did he forget, or was it just Steven’s dad again? “No, he’s just my boyfriend.” It’s a first for you, calling him yours so casually in front of people. 

“Oh, sorry. I forget.” He pushes up a smile. “Seems like dear Steven misses you a lot, hmm? You can just go back there, if you want.”

“No, no. It’s fine, Augustine. I want to be here and learn at the heart. Even if I do go back, I’m not sure if Professor Birch even does Mega Evolution….”

“Saddening, but true.” Sycamore leans up from the desk, and you feel thankful, but you don’t project it verbally. “There’s only a handful of trainers with the ability to Mega Evolve Pokémon back in Hoenn, but when you get your license, I’m sure the numbers will increase by many.” He goes back to his side of the room, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he sits and says, “Professor Stone.”

It’ll only be a while until it’s not only him calling you that, but an entire generation of young Trainers.

The hours pass by quickly, as you bury yourself deeper and deeper into classifying Mega Stones by weight, colour, and main Pokémon type. It’s _surprisingly_ not dull, and actually very interesting; you never studied individual details on the rocks alone before.

You’re too focused on wanting to learn from every word on the papers in your hands that you don’t realise the clock is already nearing midnight. You don’t even budge until Sycamore drops a bag on your desk, and the aroma of whatever is in there makes you look up. 

He’s tilting his head, smiling. “Dinner,” he says, placing another bag on the table, “and a drink.”

You close your papers back into a folder, speechless, taking the food into your hands. 

“It’s fine, mon chéri, no need to pay me back.” He moves to his desk, closing a laptop and putting it in his bag. This strikes you as the first time you’ve ever seen him pack up. You’ve always assumed he just lived in the lab. Sycamore opens a drawer and pulls a spare key out, and when he passes by your desk he hands it to you.

“Just lock up when you’re done, [Name].” He turns to leave, after grabbing a book from the shelf. It strikes you as odd how he’s acting, and before he reaches the elevator you call out to him.

“Augustine, why do you trust me so much?”

Was that a chuckle? He sighs happily, the skin around his eyes crinkling as he smiles. “Joseph Stone trusts you with all his heart, so why shouldn’t I?” 

Oh, Steven’s father. You had a feeling that was the reason, but Sycamore isn’t done speaking yet. “And then there’s… last time I worked with someone as capable as you, I wasn’t who I am yet. I was cold and not attuned to the world, you know?” Sycamore breaks eye contact, opting to look down at the floor instead. “The kind of person everybody would hate. We did become good friends eventually, but I don’t think it was enough.”

It feels odd questioning him about it, mostly because if you’d done that before a year ago to your mother, she’ll snap at you. But you feel a need to help him, so you push the doubt away and speak with your impulse. “W—what about right now? What terms are you two on?”

“Last time I checked, we were good.” He presses the down button on the elevator, rolling his head back to blow hair from his face. “But that’s soon going to fade away, and we’ll be nothing.”

His vague wording leaves you feeling uneasy, that after finishing your dinner you decide to go back to your apartment. 

It continues on like this for weeks, your work does, papers and papers and never seeing the end of them. When you’re finally settled in and know the location of at least three buildings offering food in Lumiose, time goes much quicker by. The only thing that’s spontaneous in your schedule are Steven’s calls. He’d used to often call early in the morning or late in the evening, but with his hours eaten up by championship, he’s learned to call you every time he has a couple of minutes of freedom. You love the one hundred and forty seconds an hour he gives to you, though. It’s so nice to hear his voice; you learn to pick up the phone before the second ring.

Another thing you’ve learned from this whole ordeal is that when a field is relatively new, there’s a whole lot of paperwork. A lot of it. Sycamore promises after you both are done with trainer applications, he’ll take you to see Anistar’s sundial in action. Hopefully, he won’t take Mamoswine road again.

But you’re still stuck at your desk, a week after he said it’ll be all done. It’s a silent day in the office today, you shuffling through half the surplus of profiles of hopeful Trainers, Sycamore doing the other half. You did expect paperwork signing up for this, but it seemingly lacks the lustre of your fantasy researching Mega Stones and travelling with your Pokémon to strengthen bonds. This is nothing Mega Evolution. This is nothing.

You sigh, laying the papers down a bit too forcefully they ruffle up. Another sigh as you push them back together, having no other option than choosing kids over another and crushing dreams. It’s ironic, you think, that this is the complete opposite problem Hoenn has.

Sycamore notices your disdain. He rises from his desk, stretching his arms out. He comes around to your corner of the room, leaning on your own table for a silent moment. It’s nerve-racking at first, but you learn fast how to deal with his gaze.

That’s when he speaks. 

“You’re not happy here, aren’t you?”

The question is sudden—it breaks you out of concentration. “What?”

“Oh, I know that look, mon amie—I’ve dealt with many fractured hearts in my life.”

You don’t say anything to confirm or deny his suspicion. Forcing a smile, you turn your attention back to the profile papers in your hands.

“He’s a sweet boy, that Steven,” Professor Sycamore twirls a lock of hair, a neutral expression on his face. “Though he’s very lonely. And cold, sometimes. Is he cold to you?”

You shake your head. “Not really.”

“I’m sure he loves you very much, [Name],” he says. “And I’m sure you love him very much. Cherish that.” Sycamore gets up, rubbing his eyes. “You never really know when that’ll come to an end….” He sighs. 

“Did you lose someone you loved?” You don’t know what impulsed you to ask, but it’s too late to take it back.

Sycamore presses on his eyes again, perhaps to wipe a few droplets of tears. “I did,” he admits. “Je ne sais quoi. It was so sudden, and I didn’t believe at first—but that’s what the universe planned, and I can’t stop that, can I?”

“I’m so sorry,” is all you can say, but your thoughts are running over the place. _This_ is what he meant, when he stopped on the sidewalk on your first day here; this is what he meant when he said his friendship with his old colleague will fade away to nothing. You’re filled with a new type of empathy for him, finally understanding how he ticks, and why he’s such a loveable person today—because, like you, the past carved the effect of loneliness into a person.

He shrugs.“It’s fine, [Name], thank you. I should check on the second floor. See you soon.” And he turns to leave, but without murmuring something first—“La mort ne peut être évitée.”

You’re not entirely sure what that means, yet you really don’t want to find out.

The rest of the hours go smooth and dull, except for the second you get a paper-cut on your thumb. The sting of it tugs the cloak of eeriness Sycamore cast away. You’re brought back to noticing the little details, like vibrant colours or air temperature.

Outside is cool when you leave, and something you never expected happens. Snowflakes drop themselves on your eyelashes, the first light snowfall you’ve ever seen in Lumiose. Despite having actual frozen water fall on you, you feel warm in Kalos for the first time. It’s too soon to say it out loud, but Kalos feels like _home_ now. It’s what you think about when someone asks you where you’re from. And it terrifies you, because you might forget about Hoenn, and you might forget about a certain someone.

You sleep with your arms wrapped around a pillow. There’s the saying if you do, you’re missing someone unconsciously. But you don’t feel it only unconsciously, you also feel it consciously, emotionally, mentally. You miss Steven, and you want him here, and you miss him.

You fall asleep with a number on your mind. _Three hundred and twenty-one I love yous left._

The alarm doesn’t go off the next day. It’s around nine in the morning when you do rise, and you rush to get ready in a few minutes.

You give a nod to the barista of the café you live on top of and head outside, expecting a refreshing brand new day, but walking into something else. Literally. 

_Someone_ else would be the correct term. To be more detailed, Serena, the girl you saw at your first day here. 

You can see the enthusiasm on her face, before she even speaks. “Hello, hello, hello!”

“H…Hello? Is something wrong?”

“[Name]!” There’s suddenly a twitch in her eyebrow, making her look angry. She grabs your shoulders. “We have to go now.”

Wait, is Sycamore angry that you’re late? You always thought he was the type to be forgiving.  “Is this because I overslept? I’m sorry.”

“What?” Serena starts tugging you to the opposite direction of the lab, to the north boulevard. “No, no, of course not. I’m taking you to Kiloude City.”

You wonder about it as she drags you to the TMV station. Yes, you’ve heard of Kiloude before, but you have absolutely no idea where it is and what’s in it.

The station isn’t that far from Café Introversion, just a few metres away. Serena pulls you in and scans her pass twice, and takes you to the dock. 

It feels awkward just standing there, so you try to initiate conversation. “So, Kiloude is very far, then?”

Serena stretches. “Yeah, like, really down south. It’s hotter than usual there. My guess, somewhere close to Hoenn climate.”

And it clicks. This is Sycamore’s doing, with the question he asked you yesterday. Perhaps it’s what you need, a little place just like old home.

The TMV slowly stops in front of you, and Serena shows you in. It has a sleek finish both internally and externally, making it something that just screams Kalos, the city of the future and holograms and the heart of Mega Evolution. You’re still looking around the cabin you’re in when the TMV jolts forward, starting your journey. 

Serena laughs and pulls you back into your seat, saving you from being pinned on the wall. “I didn’t warn you about that, sorry!” She’s shouting, because the whirl of the ride is sucking tiny sounds away.

It feels like hours when the TMV stops, but Serena says it has only been five minutes. You take a deep breath when you’re out of the station, into the warmth of Kiloude. She was right—it does feel like Hoenn, with the warm colours and the sun brightly shining down.

Serena smiles when she sees your reaction. “I’m taking you like it here?”

You nod swiftly. “It’s so warm.”

“Come on,” she takes your arm. “You haven’t even seen the rest of the city yet.”

In the middle of Kiloude there is something you’ve seen before—the Battle Maison. Then there’s a warm feeling in you, since it feels like it’s they day you visited the Battle Resort in the Hoenn region with Steven.

Serena shows you around the rest of the buildings. There’s also something called a safari here, just like Hoenn. It feels like this city is that region packed together, bite-sized. Everything about it makes you feel elastic. 

At the top of the hill there’s a little pond, surrounded by a fence. Serena leans on it, exhausted from all the walking. But she’s still happy, you can see it on her face. 

“You can have my TMV pass if you want,” she says, after cooling down for a moment. “I hardly ever use it.”

“It’s fine, I’m alright with visiting here sparingly. I do have work to do, after all.”

She hums. “Hmm, I see. Well, if you ever change your mind, I’ll be happy to give it to you.” She takes a long sip from her water bottle, since she’s not used to the heat. When she pulls it from her lips, she asks you: “Have you seen the Battle Maison before? Seems like you know all about it.”

“No, but, we have one of those in Hoenn,” you feel excited, not minding at all that you’re talking your mouth off for once. “I visited the Battle Maison there with Steven before, when he was invited. Hoenn’s version is fully exclusive. Only a few people are allowed on that island, and those who are are really strong.”

Serena closes her eyes, breathing in the air. “There might be a lot of Trainers here, but it’s also exclusive. Sycamore’s the one who gives out the TMV passes. That’s how I got one.”

“You used to be a Trainer?”

“Yeah, I got to the league and all. But I didn’t really want to be Champion, you know? Too much work. Besides,” she moves off the railings, a soft smile on her face. “There’s someone I have to take care of.”

Ah, no wonder she spends all her time at the labs.

At the end of the day, you take the TMV again, without being stuck to the wall this time. Serena hugs you goodbye, saying that she’ll see you tomorrow at the office.

After you take dinner, you retire to your apartment. It’s odd going from warm to cold so quickly, that it makes you feel sleepy early. You lay on your bed and close your eyes, and soon your breathing slows, ready to fall asleep. 

But just before you do, you realise something; Steven hasn’t called at all today. 

You don’t wake up naturally the next day. It’s your phone ringing that does jolt you from sleep. Groaning, not wanting to get out of bed, you stretch your arm out to get it off the table. You catch it on the sixth ring, and click the call on. “Hi? Steven?” Your voice sounded unusually strained saying that word, so you give another try. “Hello?”

“Salut ma belle, it’s me.” Oh. It’s Augustine, not who you’ve been hoping for. Your heart takes a drop, but it doesn’t hit the ground full force. Just a bit disappointing. “Comment ça va?” 

“Um, I’ve only been living here for around a month and a half.” You rub the back of your neck, yawning. “I haven’t learned an entire language that time.”

You hear him chuckle. And static brings up again, as he asks another question: “Do you miss Hoenn?”

“Mostly two things.” You blink the last pull of sleep away, finally sitting up. “One, the weather, and two, the Champion.”

When the sun rises to it’s late morning eighty degrees, you’re not at your desk shuffling papers as the usual. You’re going down Route 4 with Sycamore this time, the longer route to Anistar, but safer nonetheless.

You really look the part of a Pokémon Professor now—you’ve got the lab-coat, and you’re getting used to wearing formal clothing all the time. It helps that Kalos is so stylish, having such a big selection of clothing. Though today you’re almost a bit below semiformal to travel, you still have your lab-coat on. Your skin feels weird without it.

Southern Kalos is now your favourite part of the region, being warm and lively. You’re happy walking through the warm city of Santalune, seeing all the young trainers with dreams starting their journeys off. 

Sycamore spites you not to spend too much time in the cities and towns, since Anistar is _far_. He estimates arrival around seven in the evening, an hour right before the dial starts spinning. Well, you think, then it’s fine to loiter around routes. You’ve got an hour allowance, but he doesn’t want to hear your protests, and tugs your arm to the entrance gate of the Pokémon league.

And, wow, it makes Hoenn look childish. You can only see the opening gates to Victory Road, but you can feel chills going up your spine. No wonder Serena felt intimidated, having to live up to this. 

Sycamore has to pull you away again from your mesmerising staring. He has to hold your arm tight through the next route and through the terminal, finally letting you go when you pass by the Pokécenter in Snowbell City to catch his breath. 

It’s a beautiful city, one you didn’t know existed; one where it snows nonstop, but people still stay. You catch a snowflake on your tongue, and you feel like you belong, despite this place being the complete opposite of Hoenn. Your face falls as you realise that each day, you’re becoming more attuned to this place. Maybe at the end of the year you’ll choose to stay instead of go back to Steven, and you don’t know how he’ll respond to your decision, if you do stay.

The sky slowly changes to dark blue as you and Sycamore pass through the long rope bridge on Route 19 and through Couriway Town. This time Sycamore doesn’t immediately go under the train tracks, ready to get to the next terminal. He takes a detour up the steps, and you’re disorientated for a moment before running after him.

He seems dead set on his destination, halfway up the stairs. “Augustine?” you ask, confused. “What are you doing?”

“There is something I want to check,” he replies smoothly. “It’ll only be a moment. Do you want to see?”

He leads you up until you’re at the train station. He automatically walks and stops right in front of the middle seat, like he’s been here so many times before over the years. You follow closely as he bends down to pull two crumpled pieces of hidden paper from between the cushions. A smile cracks on his face when he inspects the contents both of them and finds one much more newer than the other.

Sycamore turns to you, gesturing to the papers. “A letter to myself, when I was young,” he puts the yellowed one in his pocket, still holding the one that looks new to his chest. “And the other one… Well, let’s just say that it’s Serena’s reply to my letter, when she was still on her journey.”

You stay silent, letting him have his moment. After a sigh, though, he pushes the other paper into his pocket as well, and holds out his hand. “Come, mon chérie, let’s get going, shall we?”

The next route, Route 18, is a little longer than the last route, but you’re able to manage not stopping to inspect the old mine cart tracks, that lead into deep caves. As you pass on the second wooden bridge, you think of Steven. Maybe he hasn’t called yesterday because of a rockslide accident? No, you push that thought away. It’s unlikely. The most probable thing is that he’s exhausted, taking sleep much more granted now.

Finally, you pass through the last terminal, and despite all the delays, you arrive earlier than eight. Just a couple of minutes before eight though, but it’s better than nothing. Your legs feel exhausted when you finally get there, and once again you curse the sky on why the Eon Flute doesn’t work over here.

While you’re still in the middle of catching your breath, Sycamore tugs on your arm suddenly, pulling you to the sundial. “It’s about to happen, [Name],” he says, and the fatigue all fades away and is replaced with excitement.

The clock hits eight and slowly, the sundial spins one by one until they’re all caught in a flurry, accompanied with the pink rock glowing in such a beautiful manner, it looks extraterrestrial. 

You’re content watching from afar, but Sycamore tugs you closer past the sundial to the platform right against the rock. He presses his hand to it, and holds the free one to you.

“Here, Professor [Surname], give me your Mega Charm.”

Did he forget again? “I—I don’t have one.”

“What? I thought you were a…” he notices the forlorn look on your face, and trails off, looking at the ground. “Sorry, ma mie. My fault.”

“It’s fine. What were you going to do with it if I had one anyway?”

His lips curve up to a smile again, and he’s back to his usual self. “Oh, there’s so many things to explain. The chemical reaction of a Mega Charm and this rock is astounding, [Name]. It causes the stuff you see out of fairy tales.” He leaves just a vague description, seeing if you can figure it out yourself.

And you do. Your eyes light up as you realise what he’s talking about. It’s why most Mega Stones come from Kalos, and are rare from anywhere else—whatever is in the base molecules of the stones light up when in close contact with an activated Mega Charm. Serena has one, if you recall, and she uses it to find unclassified Mega Stones for Sycamore often.

As you’re lost in thought, Sycamore speaks again. “It’s late. Do you really want to make the trip back? I really don’t think we can make it before daylight, mon amie.” He rubs his hair, yawning. “I have one of my old students living here, and I’m sure he’ll be glad to help.”

The former student in question is an odd boy. His name is Calem, and despite him being in the same batch of Trainers Serena was in, he’s the complete opposite of her. Soft-spoken, wary of others, and conscious of himself, Calem seeps of strict discipline.

He has eyes like an owl, and it uneases you as he watches you sip your tea. Sycamore’s having a conversation with himself, since both you and Calem have nothing to contribute.

When you put your cup down, Sycamore bursts randomly into another topic, not concerning this Pokémon-amie he so fondly loves: “Hey, [Name], is it true that dear Steven has extreme thanatophobia?”

You’re too busy staring at the leaves left by the tea, that all his words pass over your head until you hear Steven’s name. “What did you say?”

However, it’s Calem who speaks next. “The Hoenn Champion?”

“Um,” you turn to him, but he’s still wearing his same, neutral expression. “Yes. What do you know about him?”

“Battled him once, when he was in Kalos. He’s good, to say for the least.”

It’s weird, to put it simply. It gives you the feeling of a small world, meeting someone that Steven’s met before, probably before even meeting you. 

“I want to battle him again,” Calem boasts. “Do you know him personally?”

You almost laugh, since he has no idea at all what’s going on between you and Steven, but you hold yourself. It’s like back at your school, when he called you to identify citrine with your first name and everyone wondered the connection between you too; it’s a nice feeling, being secretive about some things. It gives you a thrill.

Sycamore is the one who answers the question, unfortunately. “[Name] here knows him the best. She’s his girlfriend.”

“He’s here then? When can I meet him?”

“He’s not in this region, Calem.” Sycamore reaches over and ruffles his hair. “He’s still in Hoenn.”

Calem pouts and looks down to his hands joined together on his lap. “Oh. Never mind then. I’m sorry for bothering you.”

You can feel his dreams crushed from where you’re sitting, that you feel sorry for him. You reassure him that if Steven ever has the time, he’ll surely promise him to a battle.

When it’s close to ten and all the sundial spheres stop spinning to rest, you decide to retire. Calem shows you to the other guest room, barren as your apartment was the first night.

You stay up, awake in Calem’s spare room until your eyes force themselves closed, but there’s nothing from Steven again. So much for going three hundred and sixty-five days without not hearing his voice. Maybe there’s not a need to go back to Hoenn after this is over, maybe you can live life here in Kalos. Although, you’ll have to adjust to the weather permanently. 

You shake that thought off. You’re probably just overreacting. It is the start of the trainer peak of the year, and nearing the anniversary of when he first became Champion when he was seventeen—that’s most likely the reason why he’s busy. 

And then that’s what it is, just an excuse. You go back to Lumiose the next day and another week passes by. Steven makes no move to contact you, and when you try to call him yourself, you find that his number is deactivated.

You still focus on your professorship training, but Steven’s welfare is always nagging at the back of your mind. There’s a worrisome feeling at first, that something terribly horrible has happened to him—but then, the next day, there’s a live feature about the very, very dear Hoenn Champion who probably _was yours_ , smiling and waving to the crowd. There’s not a look of worry in his face. 

You were in the office when it was showing, and Sycamore had to confiscate your pen to keep you from snapping it in half. He shut the television off mid through the programme and took the remote away. 

That worry for Steven now has gone. You’re filled with sadness, anger, and despair instead. You bring your hand to your temples, trying to calm yourself down. Did you do something wrong? There has to be a reason why he’s ignoring you like this, right?

Sycamore pulls your chair away from your desk, pulling you into a hug. “Be calm, mon chéri. What happened?”

“I… I’m not sure myself, Augustine.” You slow your breathing down, forcing yourself to calm. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

Now you feel like crying, but you hold it back for another day. After a few words from Sycamore, he leaves you to yourself, letting you note to call him if you ever feel down again. When he moves out of the way you bury yourself in the work you’ve been putting off for a long time, trying to distract yourself.

Night is about to fall and you’re packing up to leave to home when Sycamore pulls you aside, away from the other people in his office into a quiet corner. But before he can even open his mouth, you interrupt him. 

“I know this is about Steven,” you say with a cool confidence, “and I don’t care.”

His right hand runs through his hair, a nervous habit. “Écouter—it’s the truth that he loves you very much—”

“I do too. And because I do, I worry about him—it doesn’t seem right that he’ll just… stop. That’s not like Steven at all.” Cutting off contact and deactivating his number… they’re all telltale signs that he wants to be alone. You rub your eyes, and the anxiety sets in that you’re overreacting again. “What is he planning?”

“I am not sure, but whatever he’s doing shouldn’t worry you. I can promise that.” Sycamore’s voice is firm, stable, and it makes you _want_ to believe that Steven’s fine. You nod and bid him goodbye, before the cascade of emotions start overflowing. There’s nothing wrong, and you’re here for Mega Evolution, not Steven Stone. There is nothing wrong.

And despite the constant reassurance you get from your only two friends in Kalos, life goes in a hull. There’s another Trainer rush this season, and you spend day after day seated at your desk, choosing kids over other kids. There is one day that you just stop and lay your head in your hands, mind spinning.

It now seems useless, all the sorting you’re doing; you’re thinking of your past and how another professor set your form aside, not knowing what it did to your life. And you’re afraid that you’ll do the same to some hopeful Kalosian kid, subjecting them to a life like yours.

Professor Sycamore senses your discord and sends you home for the day. You feel bad, though, since he’s too forgiving of your constant breaking down.

You’re grumpy when the alarm rings the next day. That’s no surprise. It seems like an impossible task to walk north to the Lumiose Galettes, so for the first time since you’ve arrived, you settle for Café Introversion.

“Bonjour,” you greet the barista as you sit at the counter. “Coffee, s’il vous plaît.”

The whole two months you’ve spent in Kalos wasn’t purely ups and downs. You still have learned, despite your feelings going in a flurry. Along with Mega Evolution, you have a few words of French and some fashion advice on the road as well.

Actually, you’re learning more better than before. That supposed year is going by quickly; you’ve got four months of experience down in two. If you keep this up, you can get back to Hoenn sooner than later. 

The question still looms over your shoulder, though—do you really want to go back?

You think about it as you walk down the pavement to the lab, soles clicking on the cement.

Your life in Kalos isn’t a bad one. It is a fun region, and you haven’t even explored it fully yet! Besides, there’s no chance of running into your mother here, but the price you had to pay was Steven. There’s a tug at the thing you said to Sycamore the first time you’ve walked these streets, is it still applicable? Do you still trust Steven Stone with all your heart?

 _It’s too early for this,_ you think to yourself. You try to drive your thoughts somewhere else, but it all freezes when you hear a rustle. 

There’s something rumbling in the grass as you approach the labs, but it stops when you pause to inspect it.

You must be seeing things. Perhaps this is the Lumiose ghost you’ve heard rumours about, or is this lack of sleep? You rub your eyes, and take the key out of your purse to unlock the door of the lab. It clicks open, and you’re about to enter when that blur in the topiary moves again.

That proves it, that it’s not you just imagining things.

“Serena, I know you’re there,” because really, who else could it be? Whoever is in the bushes doesn’t reply, so you just shrug and turn your attention back to the door. “Whatever, then.”

“W—wait!” A strained voice, one you’re not used to. “Wait, [Name], wait.”

Perhaps you were wrong, assuming it was just your imagination? Yes, it’s highly plausible you’re stuck in a dream now. You rush inside, closing and locking the door before a second passes, pressing your back on the wood. Is this a lucid dream?

You stare at your hands, closing and opening them over and over, trying to find fuzziness, trying to find any sign that this is your imagination. Why else would a strange, cloaked in black figure want to have to have your attention?

This might just be the new coffee you had today, playing tricks on your eyes. Either way… it has been a minute or two since whoever that was called out, and you feel yourself calming.

And then the wood lurches, like they’d hit the door, trying to get in.

You fumble with your bag, pulling out your phone, searching for Sycamore in your contacts frantically. Thank Arceus that his first name starts with A.

He finally answers on the sixth ring, after you spend the other five internally cursing at him for being so laid back.

“Mon amie?” He sounds surprisingly _not_ like you woke him up. Over the weeks you’ve been here, you know it’s rare occurrence if Sycamore’s awake before seven. Perhaps he’s onto this stunt, what ever the stunt may be.

Keeping your voice down low, you whisper: “There’s someone…here.” You don’t realise in your panic that the door is locked and you could move away from it, but oh well. What’s best in the moment is best. “There’s someone… after me?” You’re not sure if they are, in fact, after you, but they knew your name. That’s proof enough they came here with a purpose relating to you.

“What?” He’s confused; like you expected him to be, he has no idea what’s going on. “Someone’s after you? Did you get in trouble?”

“N—no. I was going in the lab and someone called for me—someone cloaked all in black. It sounds silly, but I’m genuinely terrified.” And you are. Your heart is racing, and your palms are getting sweaty. “They know my name. I don’t r—recognise their voice.”

A sigh. “Don’t be scared, [Name]. I’m sure they will not hurt you.”

And that proves it— _he’s_ on this prank too.

You say goodbye and push your phone back in your purse. There’s a new energy in you, knowing this entire thing is harmless. You drop your bag on the floor silently, pushing it aside, and peer out the peephole glass.

Whoever that is (you now have suspicions it’s Calem, for some reason) is just sitting on the steps, their hooded head in their hands. You place your hand on the door handle,  ready to turn it, bracing yourself and slowing your breath before you do.

After an eternity packed into twenty seconds at most, you slowly creak open the door. Then they jolt up, and you’re standing opposite of them in the doorway, them on the top step of Sycamore’s lab. The only skin they haven’t covered with that cloak is the bottom half of their face.

Wait… you know who owns those lips.

Now you feel pathetic, embarrassed for acting the way you did earlier. There was never any real danger. It was supposed to be a sort of surprise, and you panicking ruined it.

Although the guilt you’re feeling doesn’t overpower the anger. Blushing red, both of embarrassment and hatred, you speak. “I want to kiss you and punch you in the face at the same time.”

Steven pulls off the silly black hood, and you realise how much you’ve missed his eyes and the way they twinkle. “I’d prefer the former, to be honest.” 

You didn’t recognise his voice, the first time he called you, since it’s been so long from the last time you’ve heard it.

“Go back to where you came from, and maybe charge your phone too.”

He senses how annoyed you are, and those eyes you’ve missed drop. “I _had_ to deactivate it, since I am going to live here for the rest of the year, hmm? No use having a Hoenn number in Kalos. Because unlike you, I don’t have an international number.”

You sigh, acting annoyed, but really you’re just glad he’s alright. You’re also elastic as heck internally, since he would be here for you for all the months you have left.

That doesn’t add up right, though. There’s another big question you’re missing the answer to. “Steven, the Hoenn Pokémon League….”

“I gave up the title for you.”

“Why would you? I’m not worth anything more than the league.”

He makes a move to touch you; he places his hand on your shoulder reluctantly. “In my eyes, you are. And I’ve had my fun. I’ve spent almost nine years in the league, and I know that I will be beaten sooner or later. I am a Trainer, but that’s not all I have, since I have Devon’s future carved out for me. That brings me to my next point.”

Your eyes are swelling up now once the shock of it all subdues, leaving raw happiness. You bring your hands up to your eyes, to wipe a tear droplet away. “Steven….”

“There’s something else I wanted to tell you—something that needed to be in person.”

“What?” You run your thoughts through any hint of something so confidential, something so important that it couldn’t be over the phone, that he had to fly over here for. It’s almost blank.

Almost. Not unless he’s decided to take you on the offer he said to you, the day after you started living with him in Mossdeep. 

He brings his other hand up to you, brushing your hair out of your face. “You’ve made me so happy,” he states, and you’re already tinted pink, one hand covering your face, the other gripping his tightly. “These past months I spent with you are the happiest I’ve ever been. And when you weren’t here for for eight weeks, I realised how much of an impact you have on my happiness. And maybe, you’ll make me even happier…” he kneels on his right knee, one hand still joined in yours, the other reaching for something in his pocket; a small velvet box. “If you were to m—”

“Could you not do this?” says a voice behind Steven, and you whip your head up in embarrassment. It’s Professor Sycamore, with cardboard boxes upon boxes in his arms. He doesn’t seem irritated—he wears a twinkle in his eyes and a little grin on his lips. “Please don’t propose marriage right in the doorway of my lab. I have so much work to do, with the Hoenn Champion leaving after so many years.”

You’re red, mortified, but you can’t stop yourself from laughing at him. You realise this is the first time you’ve laughed in a month. “Augustine, this is the worst time you’ve ever decided to come early!”

He scoots past Steven, almost dropping a box on top of his head. “Well, it wasn’t my choice to have lots of work today, mon amie. _Someone_ —” he glares accusingly at Steven, who’s sweat-dropped, frozen, box still half open in his hand, “—decided that forfeiting championship in the middle of the annual trainer rush was a good idea.”

You laugh again, tears of happiness spilling out of your eyes. After pulling Steven up with your hand he’s still holding, you lean in to kiss his forehead. “Come on. Let’s see how much paperwork you’ve caused me to have.”

Around noon, you finally lean back for a break from writing on forms. Wallace is now the new Champion, and for some reason he’s insisted on having silver statues of his beloved Milotic erected all over Hoenn. _Why_ he wants them, you have no idea other than rubbing it into Steven’s face. And you know Steven doesn’t mind at all, so what is the point? Wallace is just a really odd person.

You bring your sleeve to your forehead to wipe away beads of sweat; it seems that Steven has brought the sun with him. He’s at the balcony at the top of the building now, enjoying cool air. You tell Sycamore you’ll be back in a minute or so, and take the elevator to the balcony too.

Steven’s leaning at the railings with his hair rolling in the wind, reminding you of that time you first visited Devon when he was sick. You have a smile on your face as you approach him, reaching over to place your hand over his.

“Like it here?” You lean into him. “It’s kind of like Mauville City.”

“It’s certainly…different,” he says, putting an arm around you. “But I must admit, I do like it.”

It feels like heaven, being here; being with two places you love with all your heart. You feel warm, despite the wind cooling you.

Steven leans away from the railings, turning his attention to you. “I wasn’t able to say it,” he’s slightly redder than usual, wearing a breathless smirk. “But you know what it was going to be. What’s your answer?”

“It’s not official.”

You can practically hear his heart drop. “W—what?”

“It’s not official unless you say the words, Steven. Everyone knows that,” you give him a devilish grin, so he can tell you’re just having a joke. “Don’t you know that?”

His frown slowly climbs into his warm smile again, until he’s laughing. “Oh, okay,” he rubs his thumb over your cheek. “Should I kneel down again or…?”

You giggle slightly at his silliness. “I don’t mind.”

Steven reaches into his suit pocket, pulling that velvet box you’ve only seen half open. However, this time he simply pulls the ring out and keeps the box again, holding the ring to you. “I love you so much, and I kind of want to spend the rest of my life with you. Is that okay?”

Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. “Of course, Steven. Of course I’ll marry you, despite your bad communication issues.” He laughs, and you hold out your left hand. He almost drops the silver ring off the balcony, but is able to push it onto your finger. You bring it close to your face to inspect it—which rock from his collection is this?

It’s not one from his collection. It’s something you never expected to even get in your lifetime. You look back and forth between your hand and his face, his eyes crinkled at the corners, happy at your reaction. “I—I,” your face breaks into a smile before you can even get the words out. “A Mega Charm?”

“You do need it, Professor [Surname]. Or should I say, Professor Stone.”

“Oh,” you wrap your arms around his neck, tears already spilling out of your eyes. “Thank you so much, Steven. Thank you so much. I can’t believe this.”

He returns your embrace, hugging your waist. “You deserve it,” he whispers. “You deserve everything in the entire universe.”

For some reason, your thoughts drive themselves to Anistar. You have to visit there again sometime to get your new charm upgraded. Oh, that reminds you.

“Steven, I promised this kid that you’ll battle him again. What do you say?”

“Hmm?” He’s caught off guard from the topic change, but he quickly nods. “Of course. When?”

The next day, you, Sycamore, and Steven take a break on filling up forms for commissioning seven hundred statues of Milotic to visit Anistar city once again. Calem is capable of smiling, you learn, and he’s also capable shouting _really_ loud. He’s all jittery after the battle, hugging his Absol like he’s almost falling off a cliff. Despite losing, he’s acting like he beat the Kalos Champion. It cheers you up to see Calem like this, even if you don’t really know him well.

Sycamore takes you and Steven to the spinning sundial at eight, taking your engagement ring and his stickpin, pressing them against the pink rock. Your Mega Stone now looks even shinier, if it was possible.

Steven was so amazed by Anistar’s sundial, he stood and watched until all the dials stopped spinning, some time past nine. You stood by his side the entire time, just happy to be holding his hand.

You fall asleep on the railings by the pink rock without realising it, and wake in Steven’s arms, carrying you to the guest room Calem has that you’ve slept in before. He notices your eyes open, and presses a kiss to your forehead. “It’s time to get some rest, [Name].”

Despite having fallen asleep awhile ago, you’re full of energy. It’s funny that the last time you were on this bed, you were worrying if you were ever going to see him again, and now he’s right next to you, breathing slow. 

He’s not asleep either. “It’s really cold in Kalos,” Steven says, his speech echoing in the empty room, staring up to the ceiling. “Would you mind cuddling me?”

You give a slight laugh, and hug his neck, breathing in his scent. He puts his arms around your waist. “You’re warm,” he murmurs against your hair, after a moment. “Like a fire stone.”

The thought brings a smile to your lips. “Don’t tell me you’ve been hugging fire stones while I was away?”

“Maybe I did.” He rubs his cheek on yours. “I just missed you.”

“Too much of a good thing can be…overwhelming. It was a good break from your daily dose, Steven.”

“As long as there’s no more breaks.”

You laugh in reply, puffing warm air out, closing your eyes. You both lie there silent for a few more moments, before a thought comes to your mind and you speak again.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you—there’s this store here in Lumiose that just sells rocks. I’ll take you there tomorrow?”

You can feel his face pull into a grin. “Already a local, I see.” 

“Ah, not really. I only know South Boulevard.”

Silence again. You still want to talk to him, but it’s hard bringing up the courage to say anything.

But you want your mind clear of doubt, so you speak out your concern, without gulping first. “So…? After this is all done, Hoenn or here?”

Steven has his eyes closed already, breathing softly. He looks like he’s achieved pure peace, being with you after so long without. “As long as I’m with you.”

A warm smile curls your lips. And that finally reassures you that you’ve found your home; it was with him all along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was too long it went over deviantart limits, i had to split it.
> 
> author's comment and my (very bad) translation of french terms are on the second part.
> 
> * * *
> 
> this was too long it went over deviantart limits, i had to split it. 12,323 words is the final count :0
> 
> here it is finally, after delays and delays and delays. one reason for delay is that it’s much, much more longer than i thought it would be—i estimated around 4000 words at the start, but this is past thrice that number!!
> 
> congratulations! i’ve completed a fic without someone dying. this is an achievement
> 
> a tiny snippet of my life that also caused delays: i broke another computer (the second one in a single month orz), fell in love with nendoroids (r.i.p. my wallet; i had to cancel all my summer plans because of those cute figures), and also i can’t stop playing animal crossing. i’ve built paths and cycled through a lot of villagers this month (i still need julian though XD)
> 
> last reason of delays is not necessarily a bad one—i hoped to publish this along with the next planned standalone, nescient, since the effect of events in this are shown there. nescient is halfway through now because of this, and hopefully i can get back into the groove and publish it sooner than never.
> 
> also there is a hefty amount of french in this, and it’s all a bit rusty because i couldn’t ask my cousin for accurate translation since i was too embarrassed to do so. i hope my limited knowledge in french is enough, along with google translate ;w;
> 
> translation of french terms, in order of appearance:
> 
>   * mon chéri : my darling
>   * salut ma belle : hello, my dear
>   * savez-vous: you know?
>   * mon amie : my friend
>   * bonjour : greetings!
>   * quelle boisson aimeriez-vous, ma chère? : what drink would you like, dear?
>   * une copine enfin, professeur : a girlfriend finally, professor?
>   * pas de cela ici : not from here?
>   * bien sûr que non : of course not
>   * elle est mon collègue : she is my colleague
>   * et d’ailleurs, elle a quelqu’un qui l’aime beaucoup : besides, she has someone who loves her very much
>   * je ne sais quoi : i do not know
>   * la mort ne peut être évitée : death is inevitable
>   * comment ca va : doing well?
>   * ma mie : my friend
>   * mon chérie : my dearie
>   * s’il vous plaît : please
>   * écouter : listen
> 

> 
> btw, the thanatophobia thing is really canon! uwu
> 
> anyway, thank you everyone for sticking with me this entire journey! sorry for the blocks of text. i’ve been asked multiple times if this will have a sequel, but i’ll leave that up to you :D
> 
> feedback is always appreciated! thank you once again everyone.


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